Happy New Year, Walt
by lovemesomelongmire
Summary: A little re-do of Happy New Year, Vic, from Walt's perspective. What REALLY happened on that long drive home? Longer, will be multiple chapters and will get an M rating later, so if you like it, follow or fave me so you'll be notified when I add to it. Hope you enjoy it and feel free to let me know. So far, the water's fine. Got both feet in:)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **

**So, my sister read my first story, loved it, but said she kept waiting for Vic to wake up from a dream, which made me start thinking. She also pointed out that a trip from even the fictional Durant to Whitefish Montana would be around 19 hours both ways, so that didn't make sense and she was right.:) She called me on my lack of research and I've made up for it in this latest endeavour of mine. What if Vic had been only dreaming? Events take place after Season 3 and are from Walt's point of view this time around, but with no other real time line established. It's really just my take on what I'd like to see happen, how I'd like to see it happen and purely all my own imagination and blatant ignoring of facts that might contradict my flight of fancy:).**** Hope you enjoy this story. I've broken it down in to chapters and there will be an M rating coming along, but for now…..read on and let me know what you think. I like it, but it's YOUR reviews that keep me coming back to this site to share.**** Thanks so much, all of you, for reviewing, favouring and following me and encouraging me to carry on! If you find my writing style too convoluted, let me know; I can take a LITTLE criticism****…. And now 'unto the breach' we go…and ya, there might just be more fireworks**** xox - and yeah, there is!:) I LOVE fireworks:) LOL**

**CHAPTER ONE…**

Here I am, New Year's Eve, driving down an unsurprisingly empty stretch of highway, heading for home. It's late, past eleven, and will more than likely be near midnight by the time I reach my destination. It's at least a nine hour round- trip from Durant WY to Bozeman, MT, but it was worth the drive to hand over the little punk I'd arrested yesterday after his cross-border car-jacking spree had landed him in my county. I'd just wanted to hand Bozeman back their garbage as Vic had said and I smiled, recalling that comment. I believe her exact words had been 'Why do_ we_ have to give Bozeman back their fuckin' garbage? Can't_ they_ come get it themselves?"

I gave a quiet chuckle and looked down. There she was, asleep beside me, her head on my shoulder, her blonde hair tickling my chin. I know she'd be mortified if she woke up right now, so I just pray she doesn't. I like her beside me like this. I like my arm around her shoulders, her warm breath on my chest. I like the clean, fresh scent of her shampoo and the feel of her right hand resting against me, just above my belt and the way her left hand is tucked under her chin. She fell asleep a couple of hours ago, leaning up against the passenger door, but somehow, she ended up here…and I'm sure not complaining about it! I'd heard her mutter something about 'doofus' and Whitefish Montana' and then there was the little 'eeww' she gave out and I wondered what she was dreaming about….

Vic.

I couldn't help but give her a little squeeze and she responded by snuggling in closer. I smiled down at the top of her head and then turned my attention back to the highway. Outside the windshield, the full moon hung high in the sky, washing the snow-covered ground in its surreal silver light. Stars shone like diamonds and I was reminded of how lucky I was to be heading in to this.

I should've been tired, but I wasn't. Sleep and I were not the best of friends, anyway. When Martha had died, I couldn't sleep. When Henry had been arrested, I wouldn't sleep. When all of it had been resolved and Henry was exonerated and I'd made my peace with Martha's murder and had finally let her go, I should've slept…and I did, but now, sleep brought different dreams with it, dreams that left me tossing and turning and wondering just what the hell I was doing. Sleep brought me dreams of Vic, dreams that left me aroused, confused, sometimes ashamed and in this moment, under this night sky, I couldn't help but wonder if she ever dreamt about me and felt those same things.

"You crazy old man" I told myself, but the self-scolding was only half-hearted.

Vic and I were close in ways I'd never thought possible. The only other woman I'd ever been this close with had been Martha and that's why I'd married her, but I never expected to feel that way about any other woman, especially not Vic! It wasn't that the two of them were so very different from each other; Martha had had her fair share of fire and hadn't been afraid to speak her mind or give me a piece of it when needed; but Vic…well, I'd never really known a woman as outspoken and feisty as she was. I'd arrested a few and been told to go fuck myself in the process, but that was all in the heat of the moment. When Vic told me to fuck myself, well….it was somehow endearing, or had certainly become so over the years we'd worked together. I smiled quietly again, surprised at the ways Vic had changed me without me even being aware of it until just lately.

I remembered the first time she'd dropped a load of 'f'-bombs; I believe it was the first day I met her in the job interview and I recaledl looking at her like 'are you done yet' and being mildly irritated, but not really offended by her language. I was actually curious and intrigued by the way she could use the word in so many different contexts, but after hiring her, I did try to get her to limit her use of profanity with pointed glares, but after blatantly ignoring me, I'd just given up. Maybe if she hadn't been so good at her job, I could've used her profanity as an excuse to fire her, but after seeing her and her mind in action, I'd been thoroughly impressed.

Then there was the way she had of drawing me out or getting in my face. Calling me on my bullshit and lightening me up all at the same time. I didn't intimidate Vic one little bit and that was something new for me. My size alone could be daunting and I know my demeanor didn't exactly welcome friendly feelings from most people, but Vic had never shown an ounce of caution around me, except in those moments when I'd been unable to completely hide the pain that certain circumstances had brought me….and in those moments, Vic had been quietly comforting and a little unsure of herself, but there for me, nonetheless.

That side of her should have surprised me, but I think I welcomed her quiet support too much to be surprised…and I think I'd let her in without even being aware of it. On the other hand, Vic hadn't let me in easily. She'd guarded her secrets and sins until there'd been no other choice but to tell me about them. I wouldn't have chosen to make her tell me anything, but again, circumstances had other plans for both of us.

We were a pair, me and Vic. After Henry, she was my best friend, my equal, my welcomed companion. I didn't have to take her on this trip with me, but I'd wanted to. She wasn't obliged to say yes, but she had. Sure, she'd complained like hell all the way there and most of it back until she'd finally nodded off, but I'd seen the spark in her eyes. I was beginning to believe that her complaining was her way of expressing grudging happiness. Vic. "_My_ Vic"…and ya, I said it out loud and it sounded _so_ right, at least to my ears.

My Vic, curled up against me, so warm, so soft, so like a little girl.

…..and therein lay some of my shame, but damnit, I couldn't help feeling what I felt for her. Convention, maybe even morality would probably say I should fight the feelings, but my body and more importantly, my heart, told me otherwise. I was what, thirteen, fourteen years older than her, had a daughter six years younger than her, but tonight, I was so done with thinking about all that. Vic was a grown woman, her own woman and I was a man who'd given this situation a lot of thought; too much thought.

With her beside me like this, I didn't want to think of the possible wrongness of it all. I only wanted to think about how right it felt. It was New Year's Eve, a time for saying goodbye to what was and a time to welcome what lay ahead. A time to take dreams and make them reality. I'd purposely asked Vic to come with me because I wanted her with me. I wanted to be alone with her. I wanted to talk to her about this thing between us.

Of course, on the drive up to Bozeman, talking on a personal level had been out of the question, with our prisoner cuffed to the metal grill that separated the cab of the Bullet from the back of the vehicle, but I was a patient man and knew that we'd have time for talking on the ride back. We'd stopped at a diner on the way home to grab a bite to eat and once back in the car I'd tried to start the conversation.

"So…do you have any plans for New Year's Vic?" I'd asked but that simple question had only seemed to ignite Vic's displeasure with the trip. She'd grumbled about the whole thing, but I'd been unable to keep from smiling, if only slightly. She'd let me have it, I chose to ignore her and she'd finally settled down. After a few moments of hearing nothing more from her, I'd glanced over and seen her asleep against the door…and so much for my idea of having a little chat about 'us'. I suppose her ending up against me sort of made up for it, though.

I slowed down to take the exit off the highway. It wouldn't be long now until we were home. Too bad we weren't both going to the same home, but maybe there was something almost as good. I headed for the Red Pony, knowing that Henry would be throwing a raucous New Year's Eve party and the least I could do was buy Vic a beer to get back in to her good graces. If I'd been alone, I probably would've gone straight to the cabin but this New Year's I didn't want to be on my own. Didn't really want to take Vic out, either; would've preferred to take her home with me. Would've driven all the way to Canada just to keep her beside me like this, but as pleasant as either thought was, I knew I had to at least allow her a choice in the matter. I couldn't imagine the hell she'd give me for kidnapping her! But I wanted to do just that…and would she REALLY mind it? I was beginning to have my doubts about her imagined objections.

When I stopped letting my head think about the situation between us and let my gut take over, I began to feel that maybe I wasn't so crazy to think that Vic had feelings for me; deeper feelings than just strong friendship and mutual respect. I'd been a cop for the bigger part of my life and going on instinct was a huge part of who I was. Who I AM! Reading people and situations quickly and making split-second decisions is second-nature to me and a great deal of it relied upon my gut telling me what to do and when to do it…and my gut was telling me that if I pulled over right now, woke Vic up and kissed her, she'd respond. She'd wrap those arms of hers around me, maybe straddle my lap, press those sweet looking lips of hers against mine, open her mouth so I could explore its depths with my tongue….and we'd be making out on this deserted stretch of highway, abandoning everything else in a frantic attempt to REALLY know each other….and boy, howdy, what I wouldn't give to know Vic THAT way!

…and that's when my head kicked in and asked my gut if taking that course of action was the best thing to do, because it would change everything. My body sure did like the idea. My breathing had quickened, my heart was beating faster and I was decidedly uncomfortable below the belt. Not counting that disasterous 'liason' with Lizzie, I hadn't been with a woman since well before Martha had died….and once upon a time, any thought of Martha had been enough to check my desire and set me right on the path to celibacy, but I'd made my peace with all that and I think it was just the simple fact that it was Vic who was arousing my desire and not just _any_ woman. I know in my heart that Martha would approve of this attraction; would've liked Vic and her outspoken, unbridled take on life. Vic hadn't set her sights on me, the way Lizzie had. Vic hadn't used her sexuality to back me in to a corner and wear me down. Vic had only ever been the best deputy I'd ever had and the best female friend I'd ever known.

It took a lot of looking in to those amazing gold-flecked brown eyes of hers to see even a hint of a deeper attraction, but I know I'd seen it, especially lately since her divorce from Sean…and God, I wanted to see what she really felt for me, blazing from her eyes. If she ever did let it show, I'd be a goner. I'd let the veil over my own eyes disappear and let her see just what she did to me. I know I'd been slipping of late, but I was pretty good at keeping my true thoughts to myself.

As a cop, it was just another talent that came with the job, although my nature seemed to make me perfect for a career in law-enforcement, rather than the other way around. I'd always been good at keeping my true feelings and thoughts to myself. I'd never been much of a talker or an extrovert and in the majority of circumstances, I'd never let much get to me. I was a simple man, living a simple life, simply doing my job to the best of my abilities…or at least it HAD been a simple life until Martha was taken from me. I'd withdrawn so far in to myself that even I'd been afraid I'd never make it back, but then Vic had entered my life….

"Show me, Vic," I whispered. "Show me so I can show_ you…" _but did I really have to wait for her or was I only too afraid to take the first step, make the first move? There wasn't much I was afraid of, but when it came to this, I did feel some fear. What if I hadn't read her right? What if I'd only seen my own feelings reflected in her eyes? But then again, what if I had seen something there and did nothing about it? Was I going to let fear of possibly making a fool of myself stop me from finding out that truth? I'd never let the fear of dying stop me from throwing myself in to dangerous situation where my job, friends or my daughter were concerned so was I really going to let the fear of making as ass of myself stop me from finally finding out just what it was that was between Vic and I?

As I pulled in to the parking lot of the Red Pony, I decided that I could probably live with being an ass and that if I was wrong about us Vic would more than likely kick me there, just to make the point that I'd been wrong. It was almost midnight, the whole world was on the delicate edge of a new year and I wanted a new life. I certainly wasn't getting any younger and sometimes the Universe decided to take away the luxury of waiting…

The parking lot was packed, but I managed to find a spot as far from the bar as I could get. Even at this distance, with the windows rolled up, I could hear and feel the music blaring from inside the Pony. I hesitated a moment, knowing I was going to have to move my arm to put the Bullet in park and when I did that, Vic would wake up. I could keep my arm around her, but eventually, she would open her eyes and become aware …or I could put the car in park and get it over with. "You're a MAN" Vic had told me when she'd been doped up on tranquilizers that time she'd gone 'hunting' with Omar and because I wanted to be HER man, I moved my arm from around her and shoved the gear shift in to Park. I turned off the ignition.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's Note_:**

** I bet by now a few of you are beginning to realize I'm not from the States:). I got my state abbreviations wrong in the first chapter, as my 'editor', Miss Cheeky, pointed out to me, for which I am eternally grateful. If it weren't for Miss Cheeky, I wouldn't be here! She's been such a big help to me and it's so nice to talk to someone else that understands the crazy mind of another who writes stories for the love and the 'need' of it. Publishing my stories here on Fan Fiction has been one of the best experiences of my life and for all of you that LOVE Longmire and especially those of you that LOVE Walt and Vic I say a huge THANK YOU for taking me in to your lives, for welcoming me here and for allowing me to share my stories with you! #LONGLIVELONGMIRE! - and now, on with the story...:) Enjoy! I certainly enjoy writing them and living in their world for a while...**

**CHAPTER TWO**

Vic stirred, blinking her eyes a few times as she blearily looked around. I sat perfectly still, the arm that had been around her now resting its hand on the steering wheel, my gaze fixed innocently straight ahead as I looked out the windshield. I was doing my best impression of my usual stoic self, but inside, I was a mess.

"Where are we?" Vic mumbled sleepily as she rubbed her hands over her face; she hadn't noticed she was propped up against me, not yet, anyway.

"At the Pony" I informed her

"We're not in Whitefish anymore?" she asked groggily, rubbing her eyes. I couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped me.

"We never were, Vic. We went to Bozeman. Didn't realize my company would put you in a coma" and she grunted and then gave a little gasp; yup, she'd noticed how close she was to me. She moved away quickly and the shock of finding herself against me seemed to have woken her right up. She looked out the passenger side window, then back at me, all signs of sleepiness gone from her face.

"What are we doin' at the Pony?" she demanded.

"Almost New Year's" I told her after a quick glance at my watch. "Thought you might want a beer to ring it in. I'm buyin'" and I smiled.

"You're just tryin' to make up for the trip" she smirked and oh, that smart-mouth of hers did crazy things to me. I saw her do a quick double-take, looking out her window again and then out front.

"Was there a fire? I thought we saw a fire on the way home."

"No fire. Don't think you saw much of anything. You were out cold".

"Oh…" was all she said, but she sounded disappointed. I wasn't sure what that meant.

"If you just wanna go home, I can – " but she cut me off.

"No!" she said emphatically and then softer," I mean, no, it's okay. A beer sounds great right about now and ya, you fuckin' owe me anyway" and she raised one eyebrow meaningfully at me. This was not Vic's 'happy' face.

"You okay?" I asked and she took a deep breath before answering.

"Yeah, fine….just had a weird dream is all" but she was avoiding looking at me for very long. Just quick little glances. Her behaviour was confusing me and I was having second thoughts about following through…but I'd had enough second thoughts already. It was now or probably never….She went to open her door.

"Whoa!" I couldn't help I it, I reached out and caught one of her hands with my own, meaning only to stop her. That made her look at me, like I knew it would.

"Before we go in there, there's something I want to talk about," and my heart rate kicked up a notch, but I ignored it. I was gonna do this! She looked down for the briefest of moments, at my hand holding hers. When she looked back up at me, there was that old spark of defiance in her eyes and maybe a little…trepidation? I wasn't sure about that last part, but when she spoke, I got it.

"Ok, Walt, I know I was a bitch most of the way up to wherever the hell it was we went, but, y'know…I didn't really mean most of it…some of it, but not ALL of it! It's just that, shit, you barely say a word and trying to keep up the whole fucking conversation by myself makes things just a little hard, y'know? No fuckin' wonder I fell asleep," she grumbled

She thought I was gonna give her hell and she was squirming but at the same time almost daring me to go ahead and call her out. I felt a smile tugging at my lips.

"Ya" I know," I agreed, "but Vic, now you're the one that's making things hard," because I really did feel she was being a little too tough on me. To my surprise, Vic's eyes grew wide and her jaw actually dropped. God, what was wrong with her? What was wrong with me? Vic's jibes at my lack of conversation never got to me before. Maybe the arousal south of my belt was playing havoc with my head. I thought about that for a moment….

"Oh, Jesus," she muttered, "I'm still fuckin' dreaming…" I heard the click of comprehension in my head.

"Is that what you were dreaming about?" I asked, trying to make it sound casual. I squeezed her hand hopefully, wanting her to tell me that she had been dreaming about me because the guilty look on her face was telling me just that, but I should've known better; she snatched her hand out of my grasp and yeah, she was WIDE awake now! So much for thinking this might be easier than I'd thought….With Vic, _nothing_ was easy!

"Like I'd tell YOU what I dream about! I'm gonna plead the 'fifth' on that," she replied.

"Okay then," I nodded slightly, "that's fair. You don't want to talk about it, but I think it's time I said some things to you."

"You? You wanna actually say something to me now? You're the asshole who won't even let me turn on the goddamned radio in this piece of shit truck 'slash' hearse you drive", (and she actually did the air-quotes) "not that there's a decent radio station to be found here in Butt-Fuck Nowhere anyway and you're also the same asshole that thinks grunts and huhs count as intelligent conversation and then you go and say that…that 'hard' thing….and now you wanna TALK? HERE?" and she swept her hand across the windshield, "in this fucking parking lot? Don't be so goddamned romantic, Walt" and oh, that last bit just screamed sarcasm and I knew she was trying to put me off which only confirmed my suspicions about the nature of her dreams. I found it all strangely delightful and definitely a turn-on; I hadn't seen Vic this fiery in a while. I did my best to keep from grinning. Pretty sure she'd kill me if I did.

"Fuck YOU, Walt" and she grabbed the door handle; wasn't quite expecting that so I grabbed her arm instinctively and she glared daggers at me. I glared back knowing I couldn't show any weakness. It was hard though…I just wanted to kiss her so badly in that moment.

"I couldn't say what I wanted to say with that tweeker sitting in the back" I told her.

"So you couldn't say anything?" she snapped back.

"I said plenty." And it was true.

"For you", she agreed, "but not for a normal human being."

"I was thinking."

"What else is fucking new?"

"I was thinking that I needed to talk to you about…us…" and Vic's reaction was instantaneous and unimagined, given her seemingly pissed off state. She softened, just a bit, squared her shoulders, let go of the door handle and turned to face me head-on, bringing one knee up on the seat to help hold her position. It looked to me like I'd finally found the magic word. I had to admit that 'us' certainly did feel like the most powerful word in the English language at the moment.

"This better not be one of those monosyllabic conversations you're so damn proud of, Walt" she warned me quietly.

"Not feelin' any pressure here" I replied sarcastically, and took her hand in mine. Amazingly enough she let me. Words, don't fail me now, I thought. I took a minute to gather my thoughts.

"Go on" she quietly encouraged me and the storm that had been Vic only moments ago seemed to have passed. I cleared my throat, removed my hat with the hand not holding hers, set it brim-up on the dashboard, needing that good luck now more than ever. Out of habit and a nervousness that I couldn't deny but was going to do my best to ignore anyway, I smoothed down my hair. Vic absently tucked a stray blonde strand of her own hair behind her ear, giving me all her attention, making no effort to take her hand from mine.

I ran my thumb up and down over the back of it, intrigued by the softness of her skin and wondering if I'd get the chance to find out just how soft the rest of it was. As I looked in to her eyes, preparing myself to tell her how I felt, my heart gave a lurch and I was so suddenly full of love for this woman. She was waiting, patiently, and I never thought I'd see the day when Vic waited, period, let alone patiently, but she was doing it right now, doing it for me.

"Vic, I, uh…" oh, smooth start there, Walt, I chided myself. Why the hell was I stammering? If I didn't get it together I really was going to make an ass of myself before I'd even said one word, no doubt about that. She smiled. She smiled and gave my hand a little squeeze and that made everything alright. I sat there staring at her, mesmerized by her natural beauty. I wasn't stalling, I really wasn't. I just wanted to look at her. The lights in the parking lot cast a warm glow over her features; the slight tilt of her big eyes, her sweet little nose, her incredible cheekbones…and her mouth….those perfect lips….

"Walt, beer's gettin' warm, car's gettin' cold…." She sighed, giving a little nod over her right shoulder to indicate that maybe we should get going inside. Had I been gazing at her that long? Probably; I was totally lost in this woman and all I wanted to do was stay lost, forever…but if I didn't do something, the storm might just come around again and I could feel it waiting in the wings.

"If you're cold" I told her, the words seeming to come from a secret part of myself, "I can keep you warm" and I reached out with my free hand, brought it to rest on the side of her beautiful face and leaned in just a little nearer to her. I watched her close her eyes, saw her turn her face in to the warmth of my hand, felt her soft, full lips against my palm and heard her give a contented sigh as she nuzzled me, her own hand coming up to press mine even harder against her face.

"Walt…." And my name was like a blissful exhalation from her lips. I felt her warm breath and realized that talking could wait, had to wait. There were better and more satisfying ways to show her how I felt about her. Action was always my first choice over speaking anyway. Yup, words could wait, but I couldn't, not while I was touching her like this. Not when she was responding to it in a way I'd only dared hope she would. Not when I wanted to touch her even more. All my big plans for conversing went flying out the window and what I really wanted to do was feel those soft, warm, full lips of hers on mine, instead of on my palm. I slid across the bench seat, while pulling her closer to me. We met somewhere in the middle and she opened her eyes and looked straight in to mine.

"Walt" she whispered," I know you're not good at this shit, but this isn't talking….this is _doing_…" Her hand left mine and came to rest on the side of my face. She searched my eyes with her own. "Is this what _you_ want?" and the tip of her tongue slid quickly over her upper lip, nervously, but enticingly as well.

"It's a start" I managed to get out. God, I could hardly breathe. "Do I really need to say it?"

"You never were too damn big on words", she breathed, "but I'm with you on this. I get your point" she grinned, "Just tell me I'm really not dreaming all this" and that last part sounded like a plea. Vic sounding vulnerable? Oh, sweet Lord….I felt on the verge of free-falling.

"Talkin's overrated" I whispered as I leaned closer to her. "I'll _show_ you you're not dreaming."

We let go of each other's hands and both of hers were on my face, just as mine were on hers. I felt her fingers slide through my hair and I cupped her face, both thumbs stroking her glorious cheekbones. I slid a thumb over her bottom lip and she closed her eyes again and tilted her face up to mine, taking my thumb between her lips and gently sucking it. I shuddered. I closed my own eyes. I brought my face down to hers. I was about to finally kiss the most enigmatic, head-strong, passionate, profane but adorable woman I'd ever known, and God help me, she was _showing me_ that she wanted it just as much as I did…


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

**Well, Chapter 3. Not sure if I'm real happy with it. Walt wants to go in a different direction and I can't seem to stop him! I've rewritten this a dozen times and I've just decided to publish it as is and move on:). I know that Chapter 4 will be easier to write:) Thanks for your patience. Hope you enjoy this questionable bit of literature:).**

**CHAPTER 3**

Everything seemed to happen at once.

Just as I brushed my lips against Vic's, wanting to tease her a little, the music that had been only pounding before suddenly engulfed us and a crowd of people ran past either side of the Bullet, hooting and hollering. Someone slapped the driver's side window. It was that sound that startled Vic and I apart, but her hands were still in my hair; mine were still on either side of her face. I turned my head to look outside my window, which had a pretty good film of condensation on it. Okay, then.

"Hey, man!" I got a murky glimpse of a parka clad, bearded young man, grinning in at us; didn't recognize him in that moment. "Henry's gonna set off the fireworks! Get out here!" and just like that, he was gone, but Vic and I were far from being alone. Every patron from the Pony was making his or her way to the open field that lay in front of us, just across the road. Chaos and revelry swirled all around us and our intimate moment was not quite so intimate anymore. I groaned.

"Are you shitting me?" Vic exploded.

I hung my head for a moment, tried to gather some semblance of composure and then turned my attention back to her. There was pleading in her eyes as well as frustration. I totally got the frustration part. I was just about to say something when there was a more discreet knock on the driver's side window. This time, it was Henry. I dropped my hands and Vic did likewise. I moved away from her, she went back to her own spot, and I rolled down the window.

"Henry…" I greeted him, propping my elbow on the open window ledge, trying to appear at ease.

"Walt," he returned, "I see you two have made it back from Montana none the worse for wear, I presume" and he was grinning just a little too knowingly for my liking.

"Yup," I replied after clearing my throat. "We just got here…"

A finger made its way to my bottom lip while the rest of them worried at the stubble on my chin. The familiar rasping brought me a bit of calmness….but not near as much as this habit of mine usually did.

"That is what I assumed as I did not see you in the bar," and I couldn't quite keep from glowering at the smug look on Henry's face. I knew he wasn't missing the state of my hair or the fog on the windows. I ran my free hand through my hair although I doubted if that action made even the slightest of differences.

"It was a long trip," I informed him and Henry laughed softly.

"Well, you are here just in time for some of MY fireworks." He leaned down on the window ledge, forcing me to move my arm and raised a hand of acknowledgement to Vic.

"Hey, Henry..." she said, but she couldn't quite bring herself to look right at him.

"Vic…You look a little…flushed," he said innocently. "Are you not feeling well?" As an answer, Vic gave him the finger. Wish I had thought of that.

"As a matter of fact," she quipped, "I was _feeling_ just fine until you showed up!"

She was pretty damn good at covering awkward moments...or making them worse.

"Why do I have no doubt about that?" Henry smiled before blowing her a kiss. He didn't wait for an answer. "It is almost midnight; time to light the bonfire and set off the pyrotechnics. If you two can manage to pull yourselves away from the questionable comfort of this charming truck, I have some of my special hot chocolate and other culinary delights waiting. I am merely putting the offer out, but if there is something else you would rather be doing or somewhere else you would rather be doing it…" and he let the sentence trail off, suggestively. I grabbed my hat, jammed it on my head and glanced over at Vic. She was doing up her coat.

"That's what we're here for, Henry," she replied, smiling innocently at him. She gave my shoulder a smack and reached for the door handle. She got out. I admired her apparent fall back in to normalcy.

"You coming, Walt?" she asked and I saw the teasing in her eyes. I gave her a wink before opening my own door, causing Henry to back off. "Wish I were" I mouthed at her, letting her know I could play the game, too. She actually blushed and laughed out loud. We walked with Henry to the bonfire which was just starting to take off. Henry made his apologies, telling us it was time to set off the fireworks. Before he left, he graced Vic and I with a sampling of his 'special' hot chocolate and a decidedly blatant leer, done mostly with his eyebrows and the small smile that curved his mouth.

"Asshole" I whispered for his ears only. His light laugh told me he'd heard me and then he was gone. As I raised the extra-large styro-foam cup to my mouth, I could clearly smell the liquor he'd laced it with. Irish Cream…with a hint of whiskey and cinnamon. Fireball? Vic and I hung back from the rest of the crowd, beside each other, but not touching, nursing our drinks. The fireworks were impressive, I had to admit it and five minutes in to them, I felt Vic's small hand creep in to my big one. She laced her fingers through mine and I knew the warmth that was suddenly rekindled in me wasn't coming from what I was drinking. I felt gloriously light-headed and some of it might've been from the alcohol, but not all of it. I gave her hand a squeeze. The familiar strains of 'Auld Lang Syne' took over the loudspeakers and the crowd began singing out the timeless words. I glanced down beside me at Vic and she was looking up at me. I bent down close to her, put my mouth against her ear.

"Happy New Year, Vic," I told her as the crowd counted down the seconds to midnight. She put a hand on the side of my face, turned it so her lips were next to my ear.

"Happy New Year, Walt…" and she held me there, letting me feel her breath against my neck.

"Oh, to hell with it," I muttered as I dropped my cup to the ground not even conscious of the fact that I was littering. I scooped her up in to my arms. She gave a startled laugh, dropped her own cup and threw her arms around my neck. Her smile put the fireworks display to shame. I dipped my head to kiss her. She snatched my hat from my head.

"Happy New Year to us!" I said against her lips and she had time to get out an 'amen' before I captured her mouth with my own. I closed my eyes. When she opened her mouth beneath mine, I opened myself up to the sweetest joy I never thought I'd ever feel again. I was drowning in a sea of sensuality and I didn't give a damn about who did or didn't see us. I didn't give a damn about anything but this woman in my arms, this woman whose passion was a mirror image of my own.

"I lo-" I meant to say it, I really did. I truly did love her but the pure depth of that love and its ramifications had only just hit me when we'd finally kissed and it felt so raw, so powerful but so very fragile at the same time. If I let it out, if I made it real with words, I would never be unable to do it. What if she wasn't ready to hear it? I realized I might be pushing things and while I was more than ready in some ways, when it came to a declaration of that much importance, I couldn't do it, not then, not when there was even the smallest possibility that Vic wasn't ready to hear it. Man, let me face down a homicidal maniac any day; I really was crappy at the emotional stuff… I knew what she was ready for though; what we were both ready for. It was an obvious no-brainer and a pretty safe bet. Yup, I chickened out…and never even realized what an emotional can of worms that act would lead to.

"I want you, Vic…" and the words just tumbled from my mouth in to hers. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, or so I thought. Maybe she had wanted to hear something more, that something else, but I thought it was clear she was pretty okay with being 'wanted'. She took my words in, took my breath in, took me in and then pulled away just slightly to say the words that were almost as sweet and still caused my heart to explode in perfect timing with the grand finale of the fireworks.

"…and I want you, Walter Longmire, "so damn badly right now. She reached out, caressed the side of my face, desire so evident in her beautiful eyes. I felt tears well up in my own. This incredible woman WANTED ME! It was probably a good thing that we'd forgone the 'L' word because if the 'W' word was enough to bring tears to my eyes, what would the alternative bring? We were both so clearly emotionally and physically charged up already. I could see the moisture on her own lashes and I just had to kiss her again and I wanted so much more. Hearts and flowers were not foremost in my mind at the moment anyway; our mutual desire seemed to over-ride all else. It had already over-come my naturally cautious nature and I sure wasn't thinking with the head attached to my shoulders…

"Let's go home," I whispered against her lips and there was no question as to where home was. We both knew we were going to the cabin.

"Anywhere Walt, anywhere with you, just make it fast," she breathed and it was in her eyes that she meant it. It had always been in her actions, but I'd just never really seen it before. So much I hadn't seen before…..but tonight, so much had been revealed and there was still the one sight I'd never seen except in my dreams that awaited me. Oh, it was going to be lights and sirens all the way to the cabin!

I pressed my lips against Vic's again. She opened her mouth. I met her tongue with my own and my knees went weak. I held her tighter to me, wishing I could hold her like this and still have my hands free to explore her pleasingly curvaceous body. It was one thing to steal glances at her, imagine what she'd feel like under my hands, but to be this close to doing just that? THAT was a whole different ballgame!

How many times had she come in to my office on one pretext or another, sometimes to lean over my desk, sometimes to just lean against the open doorway, one hip cocked, arms crossed just under her breasts? How many of those same times had I had to ask her to close the door on her way out, once our business was concluded, just so I could adjust myself in private and try to breathe again?

From somewhere that seemed very far away, I was aware of the crowd cheering, but I thought it was only them showing their appreciation of the light show Henry had put on. With my eyes closed, I felt Vic push against me, reluctantly drawing her lips from mine. Ahh, shit, not again, I thought.

"Um, Walt…." And she pointed over my shoulder. I looked behind me and there was the crowd, their attention fixed on Vic and I, their cheers and applause not for the fireworks, but for the display we were making. It appeared that the citizens of Durant had spoken. Not that I cared much for popular opinion in the first place and it was certainly the LAST thing on my mind now, but I had to admit that it was nice to know they seemed to approve. I felt myself flushing a bit, amazed that I could feel any kind of discomfort, aside from the physical, but it didn't last long, which also surprised me. I guess I truly didn't give a damn this time around. All my long ago thinking and worrying about it was for nothing.

My eyes scanned the crowd for the two people whose opinion I did value. Henry and Cady were standing together up front; each with an arm around the other and when they saw me looking they used their free hands to give us the thumbs up.

"About time, you two!" Cady called out. I did blush a little deeper then; after all, it was my daughter watching me perform this extraordinary display of public affection with my barely-older-than-her deputy but her approval was evident and I didn't back down. Henry gave me the sign of a Cheyenne blessing and that certainly helped. It wasn't a thing he would ever do lightly and I was touched and honoured that he'd made it clear with that gesture just how 'right' he thought this thing between me and Vic was. He had tried to steer me here before, but back then I hadn't been ready for it, but I sure was now. I tilted my head slightly to let him know I welcomed the blessing. I saw Ruby, smiling radiantly at us, The Ferg looking a little embarrassed but happy nonetheless. I saw others I recognized instantly, some I didn't, but not one of them seemed to be anything but pleased for me and Vic. Well, just in case, I decided to be the Sheriff. I set Vic down; even though it was the last thing I wanted to do and took my hat from her. I took my time adjusting it on my head, before raising my face to the on-lookers.

"I could arrest you all for loitering and public intoxication," I called out in my loudest 'authoritative' voice. The crowd grew a little uneasy while I surveyed them all with my best 'I mean business' squint. I fell naturally in to my stance, adjusting my hips to put most of my weight on one leg, hands going to my hips as I pushed the sides of my coat behind them, making sure they all saw my cuffs and my gun. I was hoping they wouldn't notice anything else, but was counting on the distance between us, the bit of darkness I was standing in and that fact that I wore my jeans on the loose side to conceal what I could certainly feel. For a moment, the music was the only thing to be heard. Okay, I'd made my point.

"What the hell," I grinned suddenly, throwing my hands in the air, "It's New Year's Day, so I'll give you all a free pass this time."

There was a collective sigh of relief just before the laughter erupted. There were even a few cat-calls and whistles from the more daring, definitely inebriated rowdies that came with any public gathering. I threw an arm around Vic's shoulders and she slid a hand in to my back pocket; gave a little squeeze.

"Show's over, folks" she added and I turned my back on them all. Vic snuggled against my chest and I started walking back to the Bullet.

"You really don't care that the whole town just saw us, do you?" she said with a touch of wonder.

"New year, new man," I replied.

"I'm certainly impresse,d" she laughed.

"You should be," I told her with a chuckle. We'd almost reached the truck when I felt a hand on my shoulder from behind. Instinctively, my hand went to my gun as I turned.

"Hey-hey! Easy there, big guy!" It was Omar, standing there with his hands slightly raised, a huge grin on his face. I relaxed my grip on my gun, but didn't completely let it go. Being ready with Omar seemed like a good idea, especially given his preference for my 'feisty Italian' deputy.

"You two can't leave now," he informed us straight up. "Not after that show!" Somehow, he'd insinuated himself between Vic and I. He had an arm around each of us. How the hell had that happened? I pursed my lips, giving him my famous 'you're really trying my patience' look, but he just ignored it.

"It's about damn time, Walt," he clapped me on the back, "and you, Vickie…well, can't say you have the best taste, but what the hell? Guess you had to settle now that I'm off the market!"

Vic gave me the look, rolling her eyes, raising one eyebrow.

"Could be temporary," Omar continued, winking at Vic and I saw her hand curl up on to a fist. Time to step in.

"It's been a long day, Omar," I told him. "Still have to take Vic back to her truck and then, y'know, let her go home..."

"Ya, right, if that's what you say, Walt," and he snickered and winked. "Look, let me buy you two a drink and then you can take Miss Vickie here home." Before I could say anything more he was hollering out to the crowd.

"Hey! Who wants to celebrate with Durant's newest couple?"

Apparently, EVERYONE did!

"Drinks are on me!" and Omar slipped from in between us and headed for the bar. Vic stood there, watching him, glowering. Needless to say, he had a sea of followers in his wake. I watched him lead the pack towards the front door, not sure what to ever think about him; he was definitely one of a kind.

"Walt…" Vic started, "that guy….if he calls me 'Vickie' one more time - ! We're not going to stay, are we?"

I put my arm around her shoulders again and drew her close, but before I could say a word, we were swept up on the crowd and propelled towards the Pony and now the two of us were flanked by Cady and Henry.

"You're not leaving now, Dad," Cady told me as she linked arms with my free one.

"Perhaps we should just let them go" Henry interjected, giving me a meaningful look. "You two have had a rather long day and Vic still has to get home. Walt, you might just want to go back to the cabin and…relax?" and I knew what Henry was hinting at. He hadn't been my friend for over forty years without knowing more about me than even I felt comfortable with…I knew he was okay with me and Vic being together, just not okay with the state I was in.

"Changed your mind a bit there, Henry?" I inquired with a touch of sarcasm. "You were anxious enough for us to stay in the first place," and I was deliberately ignoring what he thought he knew about me, even if he was right.

"What do you think, Vic?" I asked her, trying to ease back on the intensity of my emotions, making sure Henry saw the effort I was making.

"Well..."and she shot a quick glance at Cady then her eyes were back on mine. I caught a hint of discomfort.

"You did say you'd buy me a beer, if I recall," but she smiled anyway, in spite of. I could see it in her eyes that she really didn't give a damn about the beer, but she did give a damn about what Cady thought and that impressed me. We weren't teenagers; we didn't have to let our hormones rule our lives or this moment…but damnit, I sure felt like I was eighteen again.

"Omar's buying so that saves your cheap ass," she teased me "and if we leave now, well, he might just damn well change his mind."

She gave Henry an 'I've got this' look.

"Think of it as being good for business" she told him and gave him an affectionate slap on the shoulder.

"I'll make sure Walt gets home to…relax. I have to pick up my truck at the cabin anyway."

"I have no doubt you will get him home," Henry informed her, "but – "

"Stop worrying, Henry," Cady piped up, her smile radiant.

"Vic's got my dad's back, the way she always has. We have to celebrate this moment! I mean, my God, MY dad kissed her in front of EVERYONE and we both know what a big deal that is!" She laughed.

"Besides, I want to get the low-down from Vic about all this!"

"Perhaps a celebratory drink is in order" Henry conceded. "It might just give you time to catch your breath, Walt" and the last was said mostly for my hearing.

"I'm fine," I told him firmly, "so why don't you two go set us up," I suggested. "I want a minute with Vic," and Cady grabbed Henry's arm, dragging him towards the bar.

"Don't be too long, Dad," she warned me, "and don't let him sneak off, Vic!"

"We'll get out of here as soon as we can," I told Vic when we were alone, my lips brushing her ear.

"Alright," she agreed grudgingly, "but if I jump your bones in the bar, it's on you, buddy! For your own safety, I think I'll refrain from drinking too much," and she gave a soft chuckle, slipping a hand in to my back pocket again where it seemed to fit just right.

I gave her a hug.

"Cady was right when she said you've always got my back," I told her lightly, but there was a great deal of truth in that statement.

"Just don't let me wait too long to have your front," she warned gently.

"One drink," I promised her, envisioning her having my front. I put my arms around her and hugged her tight.

"What am I going to say to Cady, Walt?"

"Probably won't have to say much; she'll grill you." I knew it was true.

"That's what I'm afraid of!" and she returned my hug. "We didn't really think this through, did we?"

"Not really," I agreed. "I thought I had on the drive, but…well, I just couldn't help kissing you, Vic…Didn't mean to do it in front of everyone, but I really didn't care at the time…"

"I'm not sorry you did." She lifted her head off my chest and tilted her face up to me. "I love the way you kiss."

She smiled. I bent my head and found her lips with mine. Her hands wound up around my neck and I drew her closer; it was never close enough.

"The sooner we go in," I told her, "the sooner we can leave…"

"You're right," she agreed. "With all these damn interruptions, I guess we were just meant to wait a little while anyway. You sure you're alright with all this?"

"I'm sure…" I told her, although a part of me hesitated. It wasn't that I didn't want her; it was more that I wanted her too much…and I was regretting not telling her that I loved her, but it had all happened too fast, too much felt out of my control. I'd lost any sense of control I might've had the moment I kissed her.

We held each other a moment longer and then reluctantly parted. I kept an arm around Vic's shoulders and she slipped one of hers around my waist and we entered the Pony. The patrons held their glasses high for us, cheering as we made our way to the bar, where Cady was sitting and Henry was tending. I sat down next to my daughter, Vic on my other side, my arm still around her.

"So, you're really okay with this, Punk?" I asked my daughter, feeling light-hearted. She squeezed my arm and gave me an adoring look.

"So very okay with it, Dad, really…You look happy; you and Vic both," and when I looked down at Vic, I saw it was true. She was smiling at Cady, looking a little calmer. I know I was feeling down-right delightful for the first time in a long time. It was all going to be okay. We needed this breather. I needed it to get my head back on straight, gain back some control.

My belief in my ability to do that turned out to be a very fragile thing...


	4. Chapter 4

**So, here it is, Chapter 4! According to the reviews, you are all going to hate me, but hey, think of it as foreplay; at least it's lasting a while! LOL THIS ONE IS FOR ALL YOU VIC &amp; WALT FANS. I'm still hopeful, even after S4 - and let me tell you, S5 better deliver some kind of 'getting back to what was' or I'm gonna be pissed!:)**

**CHAPTER 4**

"You're a lucky sonofabitch, Walt..."

"Hhmm?" I was pleasantly buzzed.

I had to shake my head, come back to reality. I'd been staring at Vic up on stage doing the karaoke thing with Cady. Vic had taken off her coat not long after entering the bar and now, she'd taken off her uniform shirt to reveal the curve-hugging, body-shaping long sleeved t-shirt she'd been wearing underneath. A sheen of sweat from the lights and her movements glistened on her exposed skin. Oh, it felt good to be looking at her without having to hide the fact that I was and my slight grin was proof of that. Every now and then, she would shoot me a little smile and I'd melt.

All the initial attention we'd received had died down now. Folks were going about their own business and I, for one, was relieved. One kiss had led to us being a couple…

…and one beer had led to four and now I was sitting here with Omar, drinking whiskey, not really listening to him, watching Vic. She was a better singer than poor sweet Cady, a damn good singer, actually but that was beside the point. She was having fun, with my daughter, and I was grateful for that. Of course, Cady was tipsy herself but still, it was nice to see them getting along so well. Imagine that! I know I never had.

"I said you're one lucky sonofabitch, Walt."

I tore my gaze away from Vic and looked at Omar. He was nursing his drink, his eyes on the stage. I had to blink a few times to focus on him. I was feeling just a bit tipsy and considered calling a quit to the drinks but Omar was filling my glass while I considered.

"Lucky?" I asked.

"You, Vic…" He looked at me, reluctantly it seemed, and I felt a slight twinge of jealousy watching him force his attention away from Vic.

"It was just a kiss," I told him, not wanting to go through all the hype again.

Really, it had only been a kiss and yet we were now a couple and to be fair, I suppose I would have thought the same about any other two people, but Jesus, it was all getting to be a bit much, or maybe that was the whiskey doing the thinking for me. Just a kiss, but what a kiss… and what it did to me… I turned my attention back to Vic.

"Bullshit" Omar replied softly. "You two have been dancing around each other for years now. About time you did something about it."

"People kiss all the time, Omar."

"_They_ do._You_ don't, and you're a damn fool if you can actually sit there and tell me it was 'just a kiss'…."

"So, you know me that well, do you?" and I was getting a little irritated.

"I've seen it with my own eyes, Walt…the way you look at her, the way she looks at you and I've heard about it. That time Vic went after Mathias when he tried to slug you for going on the rez, and I was there when that granola sonofabitch Pete shot Vic with those tranquilizer darts. Man, I thought you were gonna kill both of us! You were pissed, Walt, and it wasn't just because she was your deputy. You were pissed because it was Vic."

"I should've locked up both your sorry asses for that," I told him angrily, avoiding a further discussion of just what had made me so angry that day.

Ya, I remembered it all too clearly, even with a head full of whiskey. I'd been furious and worried out of my mind. I'd let Vic go with Omar, thinking she'd be safe, but I'd been wrong. I'd gone to the hospital to see her, to make sure she was all right, to ask her if I should call Sean to let him know what had happened, even though I hadn't been looking forward to having to explain it all to him. What Omar didn't know about was what had transpired in Vic's hospital room. She'd been adamant even in her doped up state that I not call Sean, that he wouldn't care anyway… not the way I did. When I'd tried to defend him by saying we were different men, she told me I was different because I was a man… and that had said a lot to me even back then about the state of her marriage. Had the wheels in my head started turning even then?

I remembered looking down at her, so helpless and groggy, rubbing her eyes like a child and feeling bad that I'd put her in that position by letting her go off with Omar. It hadn't really been his fault, but I was still pissed at him about it. And now, I was a little pissed at myself for putting her in another position by kissing her in front of everyone. I really should've thought a little more about that impulsive move. Too late now, though.

We hadn't had much of a chance to talk about it. She had said she was okay with it, and she'd handled Cady and her questions like a pro and she definitely looked okay up there on the stage, but still….

I should've waited. I should've driven straight to the cabin instead of the bar. I should've asked her in, sat down and talked to her about… things. Kissed her in private, if that's the way things would've gone. Or not kissed her at all, but that was a ship that had sailed far away by now and I didn't regret kissing her and I didn't regret wanting her…

…but I was beginning to regret switching from beer to whiskey.

For a while there, I had become calmer, relaxed, able to curb my desire among the company of close friends and family. Cady had looked so pleased with the notion of Vic and I together and even Henry had calmed down a bit when it became obvious that Vic and I weren't going to jump each other in the bar. I thought we had restrained ourselves admirably. Well, Vic had. She had lightened the mood by engaging with Cady, telling her that things had just clicked between us on that long drive. She'd made it sound like a natural thing that we'd finally come to the conclusion that kissing was just a logical progression between us and she'd moved herself just a little bit away from me, to give us space that we'd both needed. We behaved ourselves.

She knew I was uncomfortable with all the attention I'd brought upon us despite what I'd said, and I think she was a little uncomfortable with it too, but not sorry about the kiss. I knew that for sure because when we did finally have a small moment to ourselves, we'd moved to a table in the corner and she'd pulled me to her and kissed me as though she'd been starving for the taste of my lips.

"This isn't over" she'd told me and then she'd gone to get us something to eat and I'd watched her go, watched the sway of her hips and knew that she was right; it was far from being over.

Watching her now, I was beginning to feel the fire grow inside me again. I'd banked it, but looking at her now… well, ya, things were starting to heat up.

She was dancing while she sang, her hips moving sensuously from side to side, her eyes closed, head slightly back, exposing her graceful neck and I wanted to go to her, go behind her, wrap my arms around her and press myself against her, feel her hips move like that against me, kiss the inviting curve of her neck…

"You can't even take your eyes off her now," Omar said smugly.

"Well, maybe _you_ better," I threatened him and he actually laughed.

"I know which one of us is the alpha in this situation, Walt, trust me! But boy, you better get your head out of your ass and figure out what this thing between you and Vic is. 'Just a kiss'.Yeah, right!"

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Omar?" I hinted. He was beginning to annoy the hell out of me.

"As a matter of fact, Anita just walked through the door. She's come to take me home," and he put meaningful emphasis on that last word, "Just like Vic's going to take _you_ home, so figure it out, Walt. Hopefully before you get there. You love that woman and if she loves you back, you're one lucky man."

He stood up as an attractive brunette walked towards our table. She was stunning, I'll admit it, definitely Omar's type; dressed to the nines, make-up done perfectly, hair long and flowing yet perfectly in place. She greeted him with a kiss and smiled graciously at me as Omar made the introductions. I stood, just a tad unsteadily and offered her my hand.

"Nice to meet you" I told her. Before we could pass more pleasantries between us, Omar was clapping me on the back.

"Happy New Year, Walt," he offered, and there was actually some sincerity to it. "Think about what I said and what you want, what she wants and just be happy for once, okay? Everyone deserves to be happy every now and then. Or better yet, just stop thinking, Walt!"

He slipped his fringed leather coat on and put his arm around the lovely Anita and before I could come up with a reply, they were heading to the door, Omar calling out his goodbyes to one and all. I sat back down, although it had more to do with gravity than with an actual will to do so on my part; I was definitely over my limit in the booze department.

Omar. What the hell was I supposed to think about the things he'd said, or not think? I grabbed the bottle and poured myself another shot. I was just bringing it to my lips when Henry slid in to Omar's vacant seat.

"So this is your choice of poison for the night," he mused.

"Not really. Omar left it behind. Seems a shame to let it go to waste" and I threw back the shot, feeling it trail that faint hint of fire down the back of my throat all the way to my belly.

"Why are you doing this, Walt?"

"Celebrating?" I asked, being deliberately obtuse. "You asked me to come in and celebrate so here I am. What's the problem, Henry?"

"Do not play the fool with me, Walt…"

"Then don't play the psycho with me, Henry. One minute you want me to come in, the next you want me to go, then you want me back in… I'm getting very mixed signals here." I poured another drink. I didn't really want another, but I didn't want to deal with Henry either. Not like this, anyway.

"I know what you are afraid of," he informed me, and our eyes locked. "I know about the fire inside you. I know you try to control it, but the very nature of fire is fickle at best. It has a habit of getting away from you, no matter how hard you try to contain it."

The honesty in his eyes shook me. The ways he knew me and the things he knew about me had always shaken me to some degree and I didn't like being shook up.

"It's called heartburn, Henry, but they've got pills for that now. Even I know that." I put my hand around the glass, and Henry put his hand on mine.

"Just stop it, Walt." There was enough authority in his voice that I felt compelled to obey him. In his dark eyes, I saw myself reflected the way he saw me and it wasn't a pretty sight.

"I don't know what I'm doing" I heard myself say softly. It was funny that Vic and Cady could be singing their hearts out, music and conversation all around us and yet it felt like Henry and I were the only two people in the room.

"I thought I did… but I don't. This," and I pointed to Vic up on stage with my free hand, "could change everything and all because I just couldn't help myself…" Yup, I'd definitely had way too much to drink, and I never would have admitted any of this to Henry without the whiskey. Well maybe I would have eventually, but not like this. Too late now, though.

"I know," Henry told me, his tone gentle. He kept his hand on mine, but he wasn't restraining me any longer. He was offering me his support.

"I want her, Henry. I want her like I've never wanted any other woman… and I have, for a very long time."

"Perhaps not even as you wanted Martha?" he suggested. I had to think about that for a moment. I looked down at the table and tried to find the answer for that.

'It's nothing like the way it was with Martha," I eventually told him. "It's so different, so intense, so… not me…"

"But it is you" he assured me. "It is that other part of you that Vic speaks to… and I have considered this a great deal since the two of you have been here. I was worried, I will admit that. I was worried about what you would do, how you would do it. She sets the fire inside you free and I have never seen you quite this way and while I am surprised I can only imagine how it must be for you."

"I don't know what to do with it, Henry. I've always tried so hard to keep it contained. You saw me in Denver, you know what I did, what I would've done if I'd been able to and that rage comes from the same place."

"That was a different kind of fire entirely back then. You were fighting for your wife, Walt…"

"Well, it kinda feels the same this time around. Like I'm still fighting… and what am I fighting for now? I only wanted to tell her that I love her. That's what I meant to do and then I kissed her and she kissed me and it all went bat-shit crazy from there…"

"Her charming vocabulary seems to have insinuated itself into yours," Henry laughed, and then he grew serious.

"Do you love her; truly love her? I am sure that you do. I have been sure for quite some time now, but what about you? I gave you the blessing because I know this is the way for you and Vic. This thing between you two cannot remain unspoken. You know that. Are you ready to acknowledge it? Perhaps that is where the 'fight' is coming from?"

"I always seem to hurt the people I love" and I looked him in the eye again, daring him to tell me that wasn't the truth.

"I know you believe that and in these past few years it would appear that that was the way of things, but before _you_ were hurt, that belief was never a part of you. You had many wonderful, happy, peaceful years with Martha and Cady. You laughed, you smiled, and you went through the days with light and love in your heart. What happened to Martha was not your fault and I know you are beginning to accept that to some degree… but what happened to her changed you, brought out the other side of you and you survived it, but that is all you did." He paused but I had nothing to say, so he continued.

"It was not until Vic showed up that you finally began to stir again. It is not what you had with Martha and it will never be the same thing. You have to accept that, Walt. You have to accept that she is a very different woman and speaks to a very different side of you, but she speaks to you nonetheless and that is what is important here. She woke you up to be the man you are now. All things die, even the selves that we once were… and all things are reborn, but not always the way they used to be. When Martha died, that part of you that you gave to her died as well. Those were sad days, my friend… I watched you slip away and there was nothing I could do for you. It took Vic coming in to your life to bring you back to us and I can honestly say that I love her for that, but can you?"

"It's just so different," I replied. My eyes went back to the stage. "Look at her," I told him. "I see her there and my heart feels like it's going to explode. I see her and I want to be there with her. I want to take her in my arms and hold her against me. I want to keep her that close to me forever." Oh man, I was putting it all out there, but couldn't seem to stop myself.

"I think of all the times she's been there for me, all the shit we've gone through, all the things we've both faced and how they've changed us but we still managed to make it all work, together. One minute it's my heart that's leading me when it comes to Vic, and the next thing I know, I kiss her and it's my body that's giving the orders… Is that love or has it just been that long since I've been with a woman?"

"It has not been that long, Walt. There was Lizzie…"

"That's not something I even want to talk about in the same breath as Vic. What happened with Lizzie was complicated yet so simple. She pursued me, she was relentless and it was all about sex and nothing else."

"Then that should help to answer your question" and Henry smiled just a little.

"Yeah, well. Easy to say… but I did feel bad about it after…"

"That is because you think too much, about everything. Some things just are" and he saw that look in my eye, that 'don't even go there' look, the same look I'd given him long ago when he'd told me 'it is what it is'. He refused to let me speak.

"There are things you cannot control, Walt. Accept that. Did you ask Lizzie to pursue you? Do you think it would have made a difference if you had been more forceful with her? The way I see it she wanted you, she planned it out, she got what she wanted, and that is the end of the story. She knew how to play you and before you get all in my face about that, consider this; did Vic EVER play you? Did she ever come on to you; did she ever try to manipulate you in any way?"

"Well, there was that time she called me up to Pronghorn Ridge about finding a dead body that turned out to be a dead sheep…" I smiled.

"And you deserved that." Henry smiled back. "But look at the chain of events that brought about. You got out, you went back to work, and you did the notification yourself. So she might have manipulated you, but it was only for your benefit. All you got from Lizzie was a quick lay… and that is all it should be to you; nothing more."

"Fine," I gave in. "You're right. Enough time's gone by now that I don't even think of Lizzie at all. I guess I could almost say it was what it was… but don't hold me to that or I swear I'll find some reason to throw you back in Tri-County Jail again where I hear it's 'go red or go dead.' We both know you're only a wannabe Indian anyway." It amazed me that we could laugh at that. Time does heal some wounds.

"For what it is worth, Walt, I am sorry that I let myself be intimidated by what I saw between you and Vic outside, the intensity of it. It is not for me to judge or decide what goes on between you or how it goes on. I know you are good for each other. I know you belong together. The thought of things changing between you unnerves you, but change they will; they have to. They already have. I know you will survive this uncertainty and move through it. I am sure Vic is feeling much the same and I am more than interested to see how you two stubborn people will go about making this work… because it will work, of that I am sure." Henry smiled, trying to reassure me.

"You make it all sound so simple, Henry…" I sighed.

"I will ask the Spirits to guide you in the acceptance of all that dwells inside of you, Walt, and I will tell you what you already know; you're not the only one with this fire inside," he looked at Vic with a smile, "She is just more willing than you are to let it out," and he laughed. I had to agree with him on that.

"Maybe that's what scares me" I mused aloud.

"If that is the case, then I would say you have every right to be frightened", and we both chuckled.

"Would you consider letting her work here on weekends?" Henry asked. "She has an impressive singing voice."

"Who knew?" I softly acknowledged Henry's statement. "But you'll have to ask her; no one speaks for Vic, except Vic!" We both laughed at the truth in that remark.

"You are a wise man, Walt." Henry clapped me on the shoulder, freeing my hand to allow me to finish my drink. Although the conversation had grown light-hearted, I still felt uneasy. I wasn't sure if Henry completely understood just how badly, how desperately I wanted Vic. When fire meets fire, there's really no safe place to be. Didn't know about anything else, but I was wise enough to know that!

"Before you leave, I would like to give you something to help you celebrate with Vic tonight," and with a final pat on my back, Henry rose and went back behind the bar. I should have been embarrassed by Henry's reference to what was going to happen between me and Vic, but I wasn't. Henry knew me better than I knew myself most times and there wasn't much we hadn't talked about or much we hadn't shared in that slightly mystical way that lay between us. We had more than our fair share of experiences between us, things that had bound us together more closely than if we had been actual blood siblings.

We'd seen and gone through some things together, both physically and spiritually, that had occasionally made the need for words seem ridiculous and to be embarrassed around him was never going to happen. Uncomfortable? Sure, sometimes, but that's only because he knew things that I could barely grasp at times, but most of those things were of the spirit world, a place that I had only the vaguest concept of, but a place that had on occasion brought me more solace than I could ever explain. I wished I could go there now, but somehow, I wasn't feeling too 'spiritual' at the moment.

I toyed with my empty glass, hearing all that Henry had told me and being thankful to have a friend that cared that much for me. 'Accept' seemed to be the gist of his advice to me, but could I? Should I? Half-cut I still had to over-think things….

"Oh my God, Dad, that was soo much fun!" Cady declared breathlessly, interrupting my thoughts; I hadn't even noticed her coming over to me. She threw herself in to the chair opposite me. Vic was right behind her, but instead of sitting down, she came to stand next to me, not giving me a chance to get to my feet. As naturally as breathing, she slid a hand along my shoulders and I slipped an arm around her waist; didn't bother to over-think THAT move!

"Did you know she could sing like that?" Cady gushed, indicating Vic.

"I didn't," I told her and then I looked up at Vic, "but it's nice to be so pleasantly surprised." To my further surprise, Vic leaned down and gave me a soft, gentle kiss while hitching one hip on to the arm of my chair; that's about when I stopped thinking, period!

"You two are just so damn cute together," Cady blurted out and we all ended up laughing. Me, cute? Now that was funny.

"'Cute' is when your dad does that sideways sort-of-smile of his and then tucks his head like he's all embarrassed," Vic threw out.

"That's good," Cady agreed, "but even better is when he does this." And she put her hand over her mouth and then ran her fingers over her lips and her chin, back and forth.

"That usually precedes this." Vic started pointing with one hand and then the other. They both thought it was hilarious while I thought they were both crazy; I did not do stuff like that. Just as they were about to go in to more charades, Henry arrived, with a picnic-type basket.

"I was hoping for the cavalry but I got the Indians instead," I greeted him.

"Then you should most definitely be thankful your hopes were dashed" he replied.

"OOO, what's in the basket?" Cady asked eagerly, reaching out to try to take a peek inside. Henry snatched it away from her.

"It is… an apology to your father from me," Henry declared, "and none of your damn business, Cady."

"Alright," she said in mock defense, raising her hands slightly, "I'll back off." Then she rolled her eyes. As Henry set the basket down on the table, Vic raised the lid closest to us and I saw a bottle of… Champagne? - two glasses, and a couple of mysterious ceramic pots. There was something else in the bottom of the basket, but I couldn't see well enough to make out exactly what it was.

"This is sweet, Henry." Vic got up to place a kiss on his cheek. Henry did his best not to blush, but I noticed. It appeared Vic had a way with kisses, not just on me, but Henry as well.

"I wanna see!" Cady protested, but Henry closed the lid and took Cady by the hand.

"I believe it is time to let your Dad and Vic go for the night," he told her, "and it is time I shut this place down. You, Miss Cady, have been elected to help me."

I got to me feet, again, not as smoothly as I normally did and Vic was there to steady me.

"You're not driving, Dad." Cady ordered.

"Don't worry, I'll drive. I haven't been drinking," Vic informed her and that seemed to please Cady.

Before Henry could drag her away, she threw herself in my arms, almost knocking me over. She hugged me so tight I could barely breathe.

"I love you, Daddy," she whispered fiercely in my ear and she hadn't called me 'daddy' in years. It made me hug her back just as tightly and brought a rougher than normal gruffness to my voice.

"I love you, too, Punk," and I surely and deeply did. For a moment, she was my little girl…

All things die and are reborn Henry had said and just by her mere growing up, the little girl I'd held long ago had been reborn in to the wonderful, beautiful young woman I held in my arms. For the tiniest of moments, though, she truly was that sweet little girl, clinging to me, telling me she loved me.

All things die….

"I'm so happy for you," she continued in that same urgent whisper. "Mom would be happy, too, I know… and you deserve this, Daddy." I could feel her tears on my shoulder. "Don't screw it up, okay?" And I just had to laugh because my daughter thought she knew me so well.

"I'll try my best not to," I vowed to her. She gave my cheek a quick peck, just as she used to and made a face at the feel of my whiskers, as she always had. She pulled away a little and looked at Vic.

"Maybe you can convince him to shave on some kind of regular basis?" she suggested, but Vic just laughed.

"Sorry, but I like his whiskers," she said. Again, Cady rolled her eyes.

"Ok, you two are so obviously made for each other that it's almost too much." She removed herself from my embrace to wipe the tears from her eyes. She put one hand on Vic's arm and the other on the side of my face, in spite of the whiskers. She looked from one of us to the other.

"Take care of each other," she told us.

"Punk, this thing… It was just a ki – "

"We will," Vic interrupted and she gave Cady a hug of her own while giving me a serious look. Explanation to follow, I was sure. I grabbed my coat, shrugged in to it and set my hat just so on my head. I helped Vic with her coat and then grabbed Henry's forearm as he grabbed mine, the Cheyenne equivalent of a handshake.

"Thank you, Henry… for everything," I told him, knowing that he knew I referred to more than the goodies in the basket.

"You are always welcome, my brother. Anytime you need some… help, I will be here. Now," he continued, breaking our handshake, "you two get going and I will put Cady to work."

"Love you two," Cady called as Henry led her behind the bar.

"Love you," I returned. I grabbed the basket with one hand and the other I put on the back of Vic's waist as we made our way to the door. Most of the former patrons had already left and the few stragglers bid us goodnight as we pushed open the door and made our way out in to the winter's very early morning. I glanced at my watch; it was just after two AM, I think…

"Is everything okay?" Vic asked me as we headed for the truck.

"I think I might have drunk a bit too much," I informed her and I was having a little trouble negotiating the parking lot, but she held me up.

"Not like I haven't seen this before," she huffed good-naturedly, but then she got serious. "I meant is everything alright with you and Henry?"

"Oh. Yeah… everything's good between us. What about you and me?" That's what I was interested in knowing.

"We're good… I hope. Walt, I knew that PDA was a bit much for you. A leopard doesn't change its spots overnight and all," but I wasn't listening that well.

"P.D.A.?" I asked.

"Public Display of Affection," Vic clarified and I gave an ah-ha, like I should've known that… ya, okay then.

"Go on," I suggested.

"Well, I know it was all done in the heat of the moment; I get that…but Cady thinks this is a big deal, everyone thinks this is a big deal…"

"And is it?" I asked, truly wanting to know what she thought of it.

"It's… what _we_ think it is." and she seemed a little unsure of herself, which was okay by me because I didn't really know what it was, either. "It's big because we've crossed that invisible line between friend and more than friend… and it's big to me because a part of me's been waiting for you to kiss me…" and she really seemed flustered now, which was still okay by me.

"And it's big because we're going to cross that even bigger line between friend and lover…"

We had arrived at our destination. Vic took the basket from me and set it on the passenger side of the seat, and then she turned in to my arms and buried her hands inside my undone coat. She ran them up over my chest and brought them together behind my neck, her fingers buried in the hair that covered the collar of my shirt.

"We are, aren't we, Walt?" she asked with a bit of uncertainty. "If you've changed your mind…"

"I haven't, Vic…" I reassured her. I may not have been sure about Henry's telling me to simply accept things and I wasn't sure about what time it was, but I was more than sure that I wanted to make love to Vic…

"That's good," she breathed in relief against my throat, "because I want you to be my lover and I want to be yours," and just like that, a tidal wave of passion engulfed me. When she stood on her tiptoes to kiss me, I was gone; all thoughts of what Henry and I had talked about flew from my head. Omar's advice did not even register as a thought; all I was aware of was the warmth of Vic's body against mine, the feel of her lips, the taste and the heat of her mouth. It seemed like no time at all had passed since that first kiss, that there hadn't been all the interruptions and time-outs. I thought briefly of opening the back of the Bullet and just taking her right then and there. I wanted her beyond reason and I wanted her right now.

I picked her up so that her legs straddled my hips. I pinned her against the side of the truck and she responded to my aggressiveness with some of her own. One of her hands took my hat from my head and threw it in through the passenger side door. Both of her hands were now in my hair, pulling, twisting. She bit my bottom lip. I bit her back. She squirmed against me in an attempt to get even closer and I came to know the full meaning of a raging hard-on in that moment. From zero to sixty in two seconds flat…

"So," Vic gasped, looking me straight in the eye, "you tell me. Are we okay? Are you ready to be my lover?"

Without the alcohol muddling my mind and heightening my already singing senses, I might have been able to come up with some wonderful, intelligent sounding words to perhaps express what doubts I knew I did have buried somewhere under all my hormones. I might have been able to say that it wasn't ALL about sex… but at that moment that's exactly what is was all about! Even before I had started drinking, I'd been losing control of the situation and now, a few beers and multiple whiskeys later, I'd just given up completely. It was exactly what I had told Henry; I wanted Vic more than I'd ever, ever, EVER wanted any other woman in my entire post-pubescent life.

"If you want me as badly as I want you," I told her in the same breathless, gasping way, "then we're okay." I crushed her against the truck again, took her mouth with mine and held her with one hand while the other slid underneath her jacket to find the sweet swell of her breasts. She moaned in her throat and arched herself against me, begging me without words to keep on touching her… and then, she pushed against me, knocking me off balance with the suddenness of her actions and she was gone from my grasp.

She slammed the passenger side door shut and grabbed my hand, dragging me around the back of the truck.

"In," she commanded me as she yanked open the driver's side door. I obeyed.

"Move over," she insisted and again I complied. She jumped in and knocked down the visor. The keys fell in to her waiting hands. She slammed the visor back up and jammed the keys in to the ignition. She cranked the engine over and slammed the gear shift in to reverse, and when she looked over her shoulder to make sure the way was clear, I swear I'd never seen a woman look more beautiful than Vic did in that moment. A few strands of hair had come loose from her ponytail and framed her face like bits of golden silk. Her eyes were bright, on fire and her lips, swollen from our kissing. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing exquisitely ragged.

She backed up just enough and then yanked the gearshift down to drive. She put that pedal to the metal and we tore out of the parking lot, fishtailing on the snow. She hit the lights and the sirens and we were out of there.

Technically, I should have given her hell for the lights and sirens. Personal use of said such was a violation, but while I was doing that I'd have to give her a ticket for speeding as well… and at the moment I had no idea where my violation pad was, so what the hell? If by chance anyone were to see us flying hell bent down the road, I could always say we had gotten a call… and really, I was the Sheriff. Was anyone going to question me about it? Like Vic always says, 'shit happens…'

…and seriously, why was I thinking of 'justification' when there were words that sounded just the same but were much more apropos? The word 'gratification' came to mind, which we obviously were both in need of and possible 'expiration', which I was surely going to suffer if 'gratification' was held out much longer. Okay then… those last two words made a compelling case for that little bugger 'justification'. This was now officially a medical emergency… and isn't it funny how your mind works when there's just a little too much alcohol swimming around in it?

"So, are we still okay?" I asked stupidly while a tiny sane part of my mind seemed to want to insist that perhaps whiskey wasn't the friend I had thought it was.

Unlike my mind, Vic was intent on the road ahead of us, both hands clutching the wheel while she tried to keep control of the vehicle. I couldn't resist; I ran a hand up and down her thigh.

"No" she answered emphatically and then she shot me a quick look. I saw a grin and, I swear, the Devil in her eyes.

"We're not okay. But we will be…"

I laughed and pulled down the zipper on her coat. She wasn't wearing her seatbelt; neither was I. Oh shit, we were gonna be in so much trouble if someone saw us. I laughed again because I was beyond the point of caring, beyond the point of thinking, almost beyond the point of speaking.

"Drive faster," I whispered in her ear, but I could barely get the words out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

** Well, here it is, Ch.5! **

**Don't have much to say about this one except that I had fun writing it, even during the return of the dreaded stomach flu! Hope you all enjoy it:) Stay tuned, there's more! Not sure if it quite deserves an M rating, but didn't want to take the chance of getting kicked out of here! LOL I would also like to thank all of you for the kind reviews for Ch.4. Y'all just blew me away!:) Only hope you'll like this next one as much.**

**Don't think I'm ever going to be able to top THIS chapter! LOL. I'll keep trying, though:)**

**CHAPTER FIVE**:

I don't remember much about getting out of the truck. Don't know how the two of us ended up in the cabin. Don't think the alcohol was entirely to blame for those mental lapses, either. I was pretty damn sure it had more to do with Vic, with her eagerness to get inside where we could finally be alone…

I do remember lighting a fire; the cabin had been frigid and not at all conducive to the thought of removing any clothing and I do remember both Vic and I doing a quick check of the place, just to make sure there were no more surprises lurking around for us; namely Henry and or Omar. What order that had all happened in was hazy at best. All I knew for sure was that the cabin was warm and there were no surprises. Not bad surprises, anyway…

At long, sweet last, it was just the two of us. Our coats were gone, our boots and socks discarded, all the hardware of our profession out of the way, thrown aside God knows where….and really, who cared? Not me. I was only interested in getting Vic as close to me as possible. All I wanted to do was discover the exquisite mysteries of her body with my eyes, my hands, my lips and it appeared she cared as little for the technicalities as I did. We were on the same wavelength when it came to exploring each other and that was good enough for me.

God! While the alcohol had dulled my thought processes, it had definitely heightened the rest of my senses. I was on fire! I swear I could feel myself burning up from the inside out. I don't think I'd ever been so horny in my entire long life. My whole body was throbbing, blood pounding in my ears. Electricity was in our mad groping, mouths so wet and hot, breath so badly needed but only gasped for. She touched me as I touched her, all over, everywhere. Grasping, pulling, tearing, desperate.

When her hands tried to make their way down the front of my jeans, I had to stop her. I didn't want to, but if she touched me there, it was going to be all over while both of us were still standing. And I didn't want it to be over that way.

I grasped her wrists with my big hands and a heavy pause accompanied that action. We stood staring at each other, breathing hard. I felt the tension all around me, desire like a vacuum, leaving us in that moment; isolated. Hyper-aware.

She brought her hands up to either side of the collar on my shirt, despite my hold on them. Her eyes never left mine; mine focused on hers. We stared at each other, panting…waiting. Vic hadn't wanted to stop. Defiance blazed from her eyes.

"I'm gonna lose it", I whispered the warning. Her fingers tightened on the fabric of my shirt. I felt her shaking but she wouldn't back down.

"Let's just start with losing _**this**_", she growled.

I saw the smoldering fire in her eyes erupt in to flame as she somehow got her hands out of my grasp and literally ripped my shirt wide open. From somewhere so very far away, I heard the buttons clatter across the wooden floor and still, she never took her eyes from mine. She'd moved back a few paces and only broke eye contact long enough to check out what she'd exposed. The tip of her tongue ran invitingly over her bottom lip as she surveyed my naked chest with blatant satisfaction.

In a split mindless moment, my hands were at the collar of her shirt. I tore the thin fabric right down the middle, leaving her standing before me, gasping, the soft yellow of her lacy bra exposed. The inviting swell of her breasts became my focus….and she laughed, a throaty, breathless laugh that let me know I had played right in to her hands.

Adam must have felt like this when Eve stood before him, glorious in her nakedness, the apple in her hand held out invitingly to him, one small bite missing from it. Vic seemed to be saying to me, 'take this, you'll love it' and I was as powerless to deny her as Adam must have been in the face of Eve's offering. Vic was a supreme temptress…and an even bigger tease, as I was about to find out.

I went to grab her, wanting to free her breasts from their confinement, wanting to feel their weight and fullness in my hands, wanting to experience the sweet erectness of her nipples against my naked chest, in my mouth, all over me. Instead, she put her hand out, strong against my chest, her fingers threaded through the hair there, twisting just enough to distract me.

"Wait." she ordered me and I could only stand there looking at her like a panting idiot, curious enough to wonder what she was up to. Frustrated as hell, but curious just the same. Somewhere along the line, her hair had been set free of its ponytail and it fell, soft and long over her shoulders, tousled and wild about her face. She was so damn beautiful! So sexy with those big golden eyes, so inviting with that wide, wonderful mouth and those lips!

"I need a drink," she breathed, softly, seductively and she bent down with one graceful, fluid motion before I could stop her and taste those lips again. My eyes went straight to the cleavage her position exposed and I had to lick my own lips, run a hand distractedly over my jaw, trying anything to keep myself from falling to my knees and going after her breasts.

In an instant, she was upright once more; the bottle of champagne Henry had provided us with in her delicate hands. I watched her long, slender fingers caress the neck of the bottle while she watched my reaction. Oh, there was the Devil I'd seen on the wild ride here. I remembered THAT. She knew what she was doing to me and she was enjoying every agonizing, delicious moment of it.

Could a man get any harder without exploding? Could a body throb so deeply without imploding? As I watched her fingers slip under the foil at the top of the bottle, I was confident that I was about to find out the answers to my questions.

Before my eyes, she was making the bottle do its own strip tease and teased I most definitely was! Of their own volition, my hands went to my belt, undid the buckle while my eyes never left the spectacle Vic was putting on before me. I needed….room. I need release. I needed to stop watching her….but I couldn't.

I undid the buttons of my 501's while Vic undid the wrapping on the bottle. When she got down to the naked cork, she caressed it with her palm in a swirling motion that I wished to God she was doing to my hard-on. I groaned, low in my throat and she gave that laugh again, low, husky, satisfied with the way she was getting to me. If there was ever a woman who truly embodied the true meaning of the word 'vixen', it was Vic. As lithe and graceful as a fox, as playful and stunningly beautiful, she was bewitching to watch.

God, I wanted her! I wanted her to touch me, grasp me the way she was grasping that bottle. I wanted to be that bottle, but she was defying me still, teasing me to the point of making me grasp myself….but if I did, it would be over. Just the simple act of adjusting that traitorous bulge in my pants nearly sent me over the edge and I removed my hand quickly, gasping, and found the edge of the counter behind me instead. I gripped it as if my life depended on hanging on to it. Maybe it was my life in jeopardy because I was sure I was going to suffer either a heart attack or a seizure of monumental proportions if Vic didn't stop what she was doing.

Men only thought they had power. In truth, women held it all in their delicate, soft, sweet hands. They could bring us to our knees with a touch, make us weak with a whisper, kill us with a look and oh, the look Vic was giving me right now as she wiggled the cork back and forth with her fingers was surely going to be the death of me. It was definitely a threat to my eager manhood. That stupid, headstrong selfish sonofabitch didn't seem to have the sense to hide itself or even seek shelter. Instead, it was doing its best to urge me on.

"Take her! Grab her; throw her down on that big, old couch! Rip her clothes off, spread her legs wide, and plunge me deep inside! Drown me in her honeyed sea; wrap me in her heat. JUST DO IT! KILL ME! I'll spill my guts and I'll shut up!"

Jesus, I was panting like a rabid wolf. I heard the counter crack where I gripped it.

"Don't listen to him." my brain swooped in. Apparently, it was still alive, just a little sluggish from the whiskey.

"Be strong. Calm down. If you listen to that stupid prick, it's all over and you're going to look like a fool. You're a grown-ass man for God's sake, not some mindless, over-sexed teenager. YOU CAN DO THIS!"

I could almost see my brain with its little stick legs and arms, waving around a couple of pom-poms while it jumped up and down like some Varsity league cheerleader. It was the battle of the century, folks – Brain versus Prick, guaranteed to be a knockdown, drag-out fight…or so I hoped. If I were a betting man, I'd put my money on The Prick, but as it was, my pride was at stake here so I went with The Brain. The odds seemed to be about a million to one. Either way, it was going to be a long shot…

In that moment, I knew that a man was nothing more than a schizophrenic Neanderthal, set loose upon the earth as some kind of walking joke to women….but hey, when you were born with two heads, what else was there to expect? And when I actually found myself in a battle with my self, I knew that I most certainly did think way, way, way too much or was just drunker than I felt I was. More than likely, a combination of both things. Whatever, the bottom line was this – Vic was running the show, driving the train and all I could do was stand in front of her, frozen like a stupid deer just begging to be creamed all over the tracks! I could not move even if I 'd wanted to….and why, oh why, hadn't I thought 'run over' instead of 'creamed'?

Yeah, The Prick was winning. Not so stupid after all. The Brain must've been taking five and missed that one…

"C'mon, buddy", I mentally encouraged him, "a little help here, okay?" I must have at least moved my lips because Vic stopped her wiggling of the cork long enough to shoot me an enquiring glance, her one eyebrow raised, her lips quirked.

"Nothin'", I panted, "don't worry about it," and she didn't. Women could control their brains. What they apparently couldn't control were corks.

That sucker shot out from that tight opening like a bullet from the barrel of a high-powered rifle, its expulsion loud enough to ring my ears. It startled the hell out of Vic and she gave a little scream, but judging by the way she was laughing, she was delighted with her accomplishment. A froth of white bubbles shot almost to the ceiling and then golden liquid erupted from the opening of the bottle to run free and wild down its sides. Vic shook out one wet hand and used the other to bring the bottle to her lips to take a healthy swig. I watched the muscles in her neck working, the slight swell of her delicate Adam's apple moving up and down. Up. And. Down.

"Please", I begged silently and fervently, "don't let me be the champagne! Don't let me be the CHAMPAGNE!"

Too late.

I swear I felt The Brain take it square on the chin and down he went, lights completely out! The Prick stood there for a moment, shocked, but I felt him gearing up for his victory dance. All I could think to do was bend over, stick my hands between my legs, press down as hard as I could and just pray. The gods must've been on their way out the door, distracted by trying to fight their way through the crowd at the FIGHT OF THE CENTURY. They never heard me or chose to ignore me; it didn't matter which, really. It was over. I was done for. I WAS the champagne!

"Walt?" I could hear her, the soft concern in her voice, but I couldn't see her. I had my eyes squeezed shut so tightly that it almost hurt. A groan started somewhere inside me, deep and guttural, and made its way up to escape from between my lips. I felt her hand on my shoulder and then I did look up. I was hunkered down. She stood above me, in front of me and comprehension dawned in her dancing eyes. I saw her mouth make an O of surprise.

I couldn't stand to have her see me this way, not like this. I jumped to my feet, her hand flying off me. I spun around, pressing myself in to the counter. I clamped my eyes shut again, my head falling back as I tried my damnedest to halt the victory celebration going on in my pants. Breathing had become a supreme effort; I could only gasp like a drowning man.

"Oh! Oh…" the waves took me, the spasms started me shaking, and the tidal wave was only seconds away. I felt her hand on my back.

"Walt…"

I knew she was leaning around me, trying to get me to look at her, but I couldn't. My blood was pounding in my head; The Prick was dancing in my pants and if felt like everything inside of me was trying to make its way out of me, clamouring for the only exit that mattered.

"Oh…FUCK!"

It was over. The Prick had won.

It had been so long that I'd forgotten that The Prick ALWAYS wins and he was celebrating like he'd never celebrated before! I was no stranger to the pleasures of masturbation, but Jesus! It must've been Vic's closeness; her leaning around me that really kicked the party in to high gear. It might even have been her touch, the way her breath had quickened, the heat of it on my chest and neck. Whatever it was, I felt like I was going to die. As if I was going to keep on cumming until I crumpled to the floor in a mess of twitching, shuddering muscles.

My legs were already weak, my arm muscles twitching horribly as they held my weight. My head had fallen forward and I felt spittle run from my mouth. I opened my eyes as wave after wave of release took over me. I watched the clear line of saliva grow longer, joined by a few tears falling from my eyes. Anything liquid in my body had decided to abandon ship; humiliation knew no friends.

After what felt like an eternity, my muscles began to relax and breathing wasn't quite the chore it had been. I felt steady and strong enough to bring a hand up to my nose and give it a wipe. One last shudder passed through me as Vic rubbed my back. With its passing, silence surrounded us, broken only by my breathing. Still too fast, but getting better.

"Walt…" she tried again, her hand on my shoulder now, trying to get me to turn and face her. I wasn't going to do it; I couldn't do it! I didn't want to see it in her eyes. Pity? Disappointment? Disgust, even? I did not want to see any of it.

Breathe. In and out. Wipe my face with the dangling side of my shirt. Keep breathing, nice and steady. Stop shaking; stop sweating. Just breathe…and so I did. It filled the silence. With the release came other things.

One, I could think a little better, but I wasn't going there for a change. Two, I was definitely feeling woozy and for that big old three, my eyes decided to focus on myself, on that traitorous bastard, his head just visible above the waistband of my boxers as he slowly began his fade in to oblivion, leaving behind the evidence of his unbridled exuberance. All over my belly. On the counter. Down the front of my jeans. I was a sticky mess. A wobbling, sticky, humiliated mess of a man and what did I do now?

As if hearing that question, Vic stuck something in front of my face. I took it. It was what remained of her shirt. Somehow, that made me feel worse…

"You said the eff word", she whispered close to my ear as I wiped at myself…and was she giggling? Oh, yeah, she was giggling like a school girl! I couldn't help it; the shock, mixed with delighted wonder in her voice got to me. Despite making a fool of myself, I laughed. It sounded more like a grunt of pain to begin with, but then it sorted itself out and became almost normal. What the hell else was I supposed to do? She rubbed my back, the way she had when Cady was laying in that hospital bed, unconscious. Slowly, gently.

"I'm sorry, Vic…" I whispered, all shaky, still unable to face her.

"It's okay, Walt", she whispered back. "I shouldn't have…pushed you."

"I feel like an idiot. It wasn't supposed to end this way."

"It's not going to" she told me softly. "Turn around. Please, Walt…" Her hand was on my shoulder again, but this time, she wasn't letting me shrug it off. She insisted with her strength and so I turned, but I still couldn't look at her. I held her torn shirt all bunched up in my hands, trying to hide the evidence of my downfall.

"Here, take this," and she shoved the bottle of champagne up in my face while she tugged her shirt from my hands. I looked at the bottle; it seemed better than looking at her. If ever there was a time I needed a drink, this was it.

Vic had moved away to the kitchen sink. I heard the water running. I brought the bottle to my lips and tilted my head back, wanting to take the biggest swig of my life. At first, it was okay but then the bubbles hit me and I sputtered. How the hell had Vic managed to chug half the bottle at one time when I could only get down a few swallows? Contemplating that seemed better than dealing with my untimely ejaculation so I went with it. Now that the FIGHT OF THE CENTURY was over, it was time to move on to other things, like figuring out how I was supposed to drown my sorrows in a sea full of bubbles. I gave it another shot; it was easier this time around, but still not my thing.

Then Vic was in front of me again, her shirt, now wet, in one hand and an ice-cold beer in the other. She was reading my mind, had to be. I had no choice but to look at her as I set the champagne bottle down on the counter behind me where it wobbled and teetered but managed to stay upright; it was doing a lot better than I was. I accepted the beer. To my relief, all I saw in her eyes was a smile and a touch of concern. She placed the shirt on my belly. It was warm.

"You don't have to do that", I told her. She pushed my hand away.

"Just drink your beer and be quiet", she commanded. "I'll clean you up and it'll be okay."

"Vic – "I began to protest. She cut me off.

"I want to do this, Walt! It's my fault", and she sounded contrite enough and adamant enough that I knew better than to go against her.

Vic was her very own force of nature as I'd found out on several other less personal occasions and even though I was still uncomfortable about the whole thing, I had to admit that it felt good to have her take care of me. I just wondered if I was going to be able to take care of her. I drank my beer while she cleaned me off, my mind wandering.

"We'll start over", I heard her say.

I brought myself back from the buzzed out zone to find her no longer standing in front of me but kneeling before me. I'd been trying my damnedest to persuade His Royal Righteousness to stand up and go for another round, but all my efforts had seemed in vain. It only took the sight of Vic on her knees and the sensation of her hands sliding under the waistband of my shorts to bring the Champ back to life. He was a far cry from the hero he had been, but he was stirring.

"Just finish your beer, Walt. Close your eyes and relax."

There was that grin again, that smoldering fire in her eyes. Why did I always feel so helpless when she looked at me like that? Why did I feel the need to quietly obey her and finish my beer as she'd told me to? Because The Prick was coming back to life and The Brain, while functioning only a moment ago, had decided to send up the white flag and just simply surrender. Poor drunken, beat-up Brain. But hey, Prick, nice comeback! The helping hand Vic was lending him sure didn't hurt, either. In fact, it felt –

"Oh, shit!" I actually dropped my beer in sheer shock. Luckily, there wasn't much left of it, but it still made a nice thud as it hit the floor and why the hell was I noticing that when Vic was giving The Prick what amounted to mouth to Prick resuscitation? She took the time to gasp her own surprise and delight; at least it sounded like delight to my ears. Yeah, the Champ was back!

"Sweet Jesus!" My hands were back on the edge of the counter behind me, holding on for dear life once more. I was going to rip the damn thing right off if this kept on much longer! I wasn't a religious man so why was I calling out like I was? All that was missing was a plea to the Holy Spirit, but in the presence of The Devil, a man seemed eager to call upon all kinds of saints and angels for salvation.

I looked down. The Devil knelt before me. She'd slid my jeans and my underwear down to my ankles and she was doing things to me with her mouth that I had never even dreamed of, let alone experienced. Just like that, she'd lit the fuse and the fire was raging once more. Incredible! Never thought I was capable of such a quick repeat performance, but then again, I'd never been with Vic before, never been with a woman as wanton or wicked as she was; never been with that many women in plain fact. The Devil. _My_ Devil.

Oh, I could ride this all the way to the end of the line. I could let her pleasure me until the end of days, but not this time. Not this time! As much as I was enjoying this, I had to stop it. I reached down, grabbed her arms and pulled her up to me. She slid up my body like liquid silk. I held her there with one arm around her waist, the other around her upper back, my hand cradling the nape of her neck.

"I told you it wasn't over," she laughed breathlessly, looking deep in to my eyes. Her face was flushed, her eyes burning.

"That mouth of yours, always causing trouble". I laughed; I couldn't stop myself.

"Oh", she replied, her voice all soft and husky, "it was no trouble at all…"

Maybe cumming in my jeans hadn't been such a bad thing after all. That was over and done. I was hard as steel once more, more than ready and able to start round two and while the fire was just as hot and all-consuming as it had been, the urgency for release wasn't as demanding this time around.

This time, I didn't feel as out of control. This time, I was going to take this woman in my arms and show her a thing or two. I had my own Devil inside and when I smiled at her, I made sure to let him show. No holding him back, no stopping it now.

From Vic's reaction, she eagerly welcomed this part of me; kindred spirits had just hooked up. This was what we both wanted, what we both needed and I took that mouth of hers that had raised the dead and crushed it under my own. I could taste myself on her lips.

"Guess we're gonna see about that", I breathed.

I unhooked her bra while she pushed my shirt over my shoulders. I unfastened her belt and undid her jeans, pushing them down to join mine and she exhaled with relief and more against my bare chest. She got my shirt all the way off and we stood there, naked before each other. I felt myself go weak at the sight of her; she was so damn beautiful. So perfect in her desire. It was in her eyes, in her rapid breathing, her slight trembling. She wanted me.

Her uniform had never hidden her womanly assets, but my god, to see her naked and eager before me made me want to fall down at her feet and declare that I was not worthy, but I wasn't going to do that. The darker, deeper side of me was in control, that side that made me do things without any thought to the consequences. It was rage, but rage of a different sort. No confusion as to what it was. it was pure lust, pure desire and Vic was sending it right back to me. I felt like I had the moment we'd first kissed, but this time, all I wanted to do was keep on feeling and doing.

I ran my hands over her breasts, over her hard nipples. Over her smooth, flat belly. Slid one of them lower to that hot place between her legs. Felt her moist and slick. Ready. She moaned at my touch, her eyes closing, lips parting as she shifted her weight ever so slightly, inviting me to keep on touching her. Oh, I was going to, no doubt about that, but not here. Not like this.

No more thinking.

The Prick was the ultimate victor, plain and simple. Ready for round two. And The Brain? He was a goner. I kicked him to the curb as I kicked my jeans and underwear away from my feet. I swept Vic up in my arms, carried her to the couch and practically threw her down. She laughed. She opened her arms to me and I dived right in. The Devil was alive and dancing in Durant and yet strangely, I'd never felt closer to Heaven.

No. More. Thinking.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

** So, at long last, here is part I of Ch.6:) Thanks for your patience. Work, life and the fact that Walt's 'other-wise occupied' made getting this out here a little tricky. Only hope the wait was worth it! *fingers crossed*. It helped that a certain someone kept poking me with a stick and that another certain someone decided to find 'other' fan fiction to read and let me know about it - how could you? LOL. Have to mention the awesome reviews y'all left me for Ch5. You make me blush with delight and I'm so glad so many of you really enjoyed it! THANKS SO MUCH! Also, there's another certain someone who shared her own Ch5 story with me and I'm still laughing about it! Champagne? LOL. So, here it is. I know you all will let me know what you think and I can hardly wait! Good, bad or indifferent, I'd like to hear about it.**

**Update - ****July/2016 - Don't worry, I haven't stopped working on this one!:)**

**Chapter 6 Part I**

Oh, yeah…this was good. Lying here in that limbo state between sleeping and waking…the time when the Spirits were closest to us, as Henry would say. Didn't know for sure if the Spirits were around, but I knew who was.

Vic...

In my arms. Her head on my shoulder. Her lean, warm body against me, both of us naked, pressed together under a thin blanket I'd spent many a night under by myself. One of her strong legs thrown over mine, an arm draped across my waist, the other snugged up against us. I had one arm around her shoulders, the other tucked in so that my hand rested just above my heart. I lay there, in that dream state, toying with the hair on my chest, unaware of the time or the day. Not caring about anything except being in this moment, feeling her so soft upon me…

I had my eyes closed. I was floating. Laying on the couch, but feeling like I was lying on a cloud. Listening to the fire in the hearth crackle from a million miles away. Seeing the light it gave off behind my eyelids – pale orange and black. Dancing, weaving, entwined. Could smell the wood smoke and sweetgrass. Could smell leather, sweat and sex. All of it so earthy, so natural, so old and yet new.

I felt…wonderful. I felt blissfully stoned. I felt free. I felt like I hadn't felt in years. Had I ever really felt this…content? The word wasn't strong enough.

Relaxed? Too mild and not mild enough.

Transcendental? That was closer, but still not it.

I didn't know if I could describe exactly how I felt and why was I trying to? There were other things to think about…

My fire, that thing I'd been so worried about, had met Vic's fire and if I could open my eyes, it wouldn't surprise me at all to find the whole cabin burnt down around us. Hell, it wouldn't even surprise me to find the land scorched as far as the eye could see, even in the dead of winter, buried two feet under the snow! Probably saw the flames all the way from town. Picturing that made me chuckle.

"What's so funny, Walt?" She whispered the question and her breath caressed my neck like feathers. It made me wonder if I had any feathers around here so I could tickle her back with them. That sounded like fun…and she sounded as out of it as I felt. Not a bad phrase, but still not right.

Surreal? Hhmm, not bad, but still not it.

Exalted? Implied too much energy.

Sublime? Maybe…

"I think we just burned down the whole state of Wyoming," I whispered back. I didn't have the energy to speak any louder and even if I did, I wouldn't have. This place, this time, this moment felt…sacred. Maybe we were in the Land of the Spirits. Maybe we'd killed each other with sex and gone to the Lodge in the Sky. That was another thing that would not have surprised me one little bit. Death by sex; it made me smile.

Sacred? Had to think about that one…

"Pretty sure I heard sirens," she replied. I could hear the smile in her soft voice. Her breath sent tingles down my spine. I laughed quietly and tightened my arm around her. She snuggled in even closer.

Content? No, I'd already tried that one.

"You're not thinkin' about getting' up, are ya?" She sounded so sexy, all drowsy and soft.

"Well, I mean, I could…if you really want me to. Might have to give me a hand though" and wasn't I just too witty for words?

"Oh, my god! You're a pig, Walt!" but she didn't really sound indignant. Just as I began to laugh, she smacked my less than rock-hard abs, making me groan and laugh at the same time, still quietly, though. Still sacred. I was going to have to start working on my soft spots, especially after seeing and feeling how toned, sleek and strong Vic was. Oh, but she had her curves, too and I was definitely feeling the softness of her breasts pressed against me…

"Always knew you'd be insatiable," she purred. She was running her hand up and down over my chest now. Damn, that felt nice.

"Right, you _knew_ it" I scoffed. "Did you use your investigative skills to figure that out, Vic?" Wow, I was on a real comedic roll here. Just stonin' along…

"Didn't have to, smartass!"

"So, you're psychic?"

"Don't have to be. You telegraph from at least a mile away, Walt."

"Bullshit!" I scoffed. I swear I could feel her smirking.

"Yeah, right…first of all, you've got those crazy blue eyes. They go from faded denim to indigo, depending on your mood" and while she was saying that, she'd moved on me and I had to open my eyes. She was lying right on top of me, her chin resting on her hands, which were plopped one on top of the other, resting on my chest. I stopped playing with my chest hair and ran both hands up over her shoulders and down her sides. Reversed the movement and repeated, over and over. Talk about crazy eyes! Hers were doing that devil dance again.

"You are so full of shit," I told her with a smile. She was hypnotizing me, again.

"Whatever, Walt. You're the one with the eyes like heat gauges. When you're being all disdainful, they're that kind of grey- blue. When you're getting pissed off, they turn cerulean…and when you're really ready to blow, they look like sapphires. Cold to hot by colours."

"Now who's the smartass? Cerulean? Nice choice, but so what? When I'm disdainful, which I never am" and she dared to laugh at that, "they're light blue. When I'm mad, they're dark blue. What about that leads you to me being insatiable?"

"Mad, horny, same temperature, different outcomes…usually" and when she quirked that smile at me, I knew she was reading my mind again. Now that I wasn't quite drifting anymore, I did feel a little like that time Hector had beat the shit out of me, but I'd won that fight. Vic played dirty, though, deliciously dirty…and I had an inkling this 'fight' wasn't over just yet. Pretty sure The Prick was just out having a smoke…

"Your eyes were definitely sapphire back there in the kitchen, Walt" and that little vixen actually winked at me. I could feel the flush of embarrassment creep up in to my face. I should've felt more than embarrassed, the way I had at the time, even if I had redeemed myself after that little 'champagne' incident, and quite admirably, if I do say so. I was just too blissed-out to really feel anything but. Still not the words I was looking for, but closer.

It dawned on me that I really wasn't feeling quite right in the head at all.

Let's see, The Prick was out back, takin' five and The Brain? Last I saw him, he was skidding towards the curb, but somehow, he must've snuck back, dragging himself like a sponge through all the alcohol in my system and so, he was back, but jeez, was he tipsy! Holy Christ, had I really had that much to drink?

"I call 'fail' on the eyes, Vic "and yeah, where was I getting these lines from? Oh, yeah, SpongeBrain NoPants! Nice, buddy, real nice. Soo not glad to kind of have you back. Well, you could only work with what you had.

"Your temperature chart doesn't cut it. Better try something else."

"Okay, how about the way you move?"

"What, like a fifty-four year old guy who's been beat up and busted a few too many times? Geez, that sounds sexy and insatiable!" SpongeBrain was actually kind of funny.

Vic just kept on giving me that quirky smile with those smouldering eyes of hers, totally unfazed and unimpressed with my comedic skills.

"I guess a guy who spends his life seeing so much in others really doesn't have much time to see himself very well," and was it just my imagination or was Vic sounding a little slurry herself now that we'd both opened our eyes?

"You never do get to see yourself move, I s'pose, so you wouldn't know. You're like water, Walt…fluid, almost graceful – and no, don't cringe! Men can be graceful and still be men. It's hard to describe, sorry. You're natural, in tune with yourself and the earth, always flowing, never hurried. You're like watching a lazy river on a hot summer day. Relaxed, loose, but ready for anything. Your movements imply sensuality."

Yeah, Vic was out of it. She hadn't used the word 'fuck' once in that little monologue. She actually sounded more like my thoughts when I was sober and my thoughts now sounded more like her when she was straight. What a weird night/day….and what a nice way Vic had of describing me, but talk about looking at things through rose coloured glasses! I wasn't like that!

"That sounded more like a guided meditation than it did a case for me being insatiable," I mused with a smile. I wasn't going to make this easy for her. She still owed me for that champagne trick of hers.

"You get one more try at this, Vic." Had to give her credit for not giving up. She wasn't even getting pissed at me! Where did MY Vic go? This was interesting, though or at least it seemed to be.

"Okay. Let's move on to the way you touch yourself…"

"Uh, hey…I know I've never done that, not around you, anyway!"

"You do it all the time, Walt! You just can't leave yourself alone!"

What the hell?

"When you're thinkin', you run a finger over your lips" and she showed me what she meant by running one of _her_ fingers over _my_ lips. Nice.

"And when you're really thinkin', you nibble on it, just a little bit" and she nudged _my_ lips apart, putting just the tip of _her_ finger between my teeth. I nibbled, gently. Very nice.

"And when you're really perplexed, impatient or driving you run a hand along your jaw, over your chin" and _her_ hand slid along _my_ jaw, over _my_ chin, rasping against my stubble like I'd never heard it rasp before. Making those whiskers stand right up and beg for more. Oh, this was getting…interesting.

"And when you sleep, you play with the hair on your chest" and she slid her hand down to my chest, plucking ever so gently on my hairs. This had become downright stimulating.

I had to swallow. My hands slid down her back, under the blanket that covered her from the waist down, found the tight curve of her ass and squeezed, urging her up my body, just a little. She gave a tiny gasp and wiggled up me. Now, her face was so close to mine.

I really didn't care anymore about the way she'd come up with thinking I was insatiable, but I was interested in knowing when she'd seen me sleeping. The only time that came to mind was when I'd slept in the truck at that barn fire. She hadn't been with me, but she'd brought me coffee in the morning, waking me up with a knock on the door and a jaunty 'room service' jape. I'd been bundled up pretty good in there. It had been a cold night.

I did play with my chest hairs when I was drifting off to sleep. I found it relaxing, therapeutic, almost. I'm sure she hadn't seen me do it in the time we'd just spent together.

"You are full of it, Vic. When have you ever seen me sleeping? Not now, I know that."

"You actually were just doing it," she informed me, "but I've seen you do it before. Let's just say I'm not the only one to spend a night or two in the jail cell and you aren't the only one who's ever come in to the office early."

Oh, yeah, I remembered coming in to the office in the early hours of the morning to find Vic sitting on the bunk wearing a tank top and jeans, her messy hair and sleepy eyes telling me she'd spent the night there. It had been a little awkward for both of us. And yes, I'd spent a night or ten there, too, but the only person who'd ever caught me actually sleeping was Ruby and she was used to my ways. If she'd ever found it strange, she'd never shown it. She'd even gone so far as to keep a toothbrush, a comb and a razor there for me. Yeah, the razor never got used; Ruby never stopped trying. It was our pattern. I'd never run in to Vic, though. Never _just_ Vic. The whole gang had caught me, once, but I'd heard them coming up the stairs and I know I hadn't been playing with my chest hair. Groggy, sure, but not that groggy.

"You watched me sleeping?" I had no idea.

"I did", she told me, becoming serious. "Back then, it was the only time I ever saw you looking less stressed. I couldn't help myself, Walt. I wanted to know if you ever found any peace".

'Back then'. That's how we'd come to refer to probably the darkest time in the history of the department.

"I don't think any of us did".

I felt a sobering want to come over me when I thought about the way things had been a year ago. I ran my hands back up Vic's body and hugged her to me, instinctively, as if protecting her. Holding her tight in an effort to protect myself as well? Maybe. I felt old SpongeBrain clumsily trying to make me go back there.

Back then.

I let go with one hand and grabbed at the can of beer on the coffee table. It was still half-full, warm, but what the hell? I took a long drink, offered it to Vic. She took a sip and handed it back to me. She turned her head to the side, laying it flat on my chest again. She slid off me, but kept an arm and a leg over me.

The fire hissed and spat before going back to its soothing crackle. I watched the shadows dance on the wall, the ceiling. I felt myself drifting again, but this time, I carried the weight of the world with me. The weight of being the Sheriff when Hell had come to Absaroka County.

No, not hell. Worse than that. Bad Medicine had come to town, preceded by the Dog Soldiers, accompanied by avenging spirits and mad, insane demons. The Cheyenne version of Dante's Inferno. Was I being slightly melodramatic to remember it that way? I really didn't think so…

The two years before had been bad enough, but that last year – that had just been insane! A whirlpool of worlds colliding, trains going off the track, past and present coming full circle to smash in to each other, headlong. Ghosts in the storm. Riders on the plains. Murder in the mountains. And the owls, watching me with their eyes. Messengers of Death. Maybe this was the time of the Spirits after all…

Bad Medicine.

I felt a shiver run through me.

"You okay?" Vic asked with soft concern. I grabbed old Sponge-Brain away from that abyss of remembrance and set him forcefully on what passed for his ass. I set my beer aside, too. No way we're going there, buddy. Not now. Not when I could be HERE, with Vic. I slipped back in to the spacey state. I closed my eyes again and hugged her even closer to me.

"You got me on the chest hair," I told her with a touch of forced lightness. "Now, just kiss me," I whispered and she did. She did and I tasted strawberries on her lips, in her mouth. Henry had given us strawberries and whipped cream in the basket. So hokey, I'd thought once we'd discovered them, but 'hokey' became' hot' once Vic got creative with it all. We'd shared them in the most erotic ways and remembrances of the past were blown away with the remembrance of the things that had gone on between us. As our kiss intensified, I felt The Prick think about cutting his smoke break short. Vic felt it, too.

"Insatiable," she whispered against my mouth, drawing out the word, making it feel like silk against my lips. She laughed as she ran her hands through my hair. I was thinking about the champagne again, how the bottle had somehow ended up in the living room with us, how I'd found it and poured it over her breasts and licked it off. How she'd taken it from me and doused me back, how she'd found her own ways to clean it off all of me. SpongeBrain was back at it again, filling my head with images I never could have dreamt of. Images of the only reality I cared about at the moment. I'd go with SpongeBrain on this one.

Fire on fire. Fantasy beyond fantasizing. Flying without fear. Higher and higher, our fingers interlaced so tightly it's a wonder I hadn't broken any delicate bones in her hands. She could've easily broken mine with the strength in hers as we flew together to Paradise. Up and up. Faster, harder until both of us had exploded together in an orgasmic shattering of EVERYTHING!

Coming down like feathers floating from the sky to land softly together, so tangled up in each other that I'd had no idea of where she started and I ended. Resting together, caressing each other , coming back to earth. Kissing her softly and tasting tears on her cheeks, her chin. Knowing she was crying not from pain but with the exquisite release of it all.

That was before we even got in to Henry's goodies. Resting together and then dessert came along. Managed to get the strawberries and whipped cream out of the basket before it was knocked to the floor. Don't think it really mattered to either one of us what else might have been in there. I had heard a _thunk_, but hadn't bothered to investigate. Who cared?

Dessert had led to another shot to the sky, and I remembered thinking it was totally bizarre that the Devil was taking me to Heaven all over again and after that, there'd been no more thinking.

And now, here we lay, wrapped up in each other all over again. I could feel the stickiness of the champagne and whipped cream between us and something more.

"Insatiable," I whispered back. "Just like you." I opened my eyes. She opened hers.

"It's not the colour of my eyes," I continued quietly. "You just saw yourself reflected in them." She gave me such a look; part surprise, part lust.

"The way you see yourself in mine?" Oh, yes, all that and so much more.

"I never looked so damn good." I stated quietly. And was I insatiable? I surely was when it came to Vic.

I went to roll her over but this old couch suddenly seemed too small for the things I had in mind. I somehow managed to get to my feet, amazingly enough, still hanging on to her. It helped that she'd wrapped those beautiful, strong, sleek legs of hers around my hips. Her slender arms wound around my neck.

The first step towards the bedroom was a little dicey; almost fell back on the couch. I made it to the bedroom, though. Gently, softly, we collapsed together on top of the blankets. Wrapped up in each other, we rolled together, like waves on the ocean, thunder in the sky. From above her, I looked down at her. So goddamned beautiful. I ran a hand along the side of her face, a thumb across her lips as she smiled dreamily up at me.

"I love you, Vic…" The words passed quietly through my lips as natural as breathing. And just like breathing, I paid them little attention, as though I'd never agonized over saying them. Funny how that happened in the heat of the moment.

In the dim firelight that crept in to the bedroom, I saw flames burning in her eyes as she raised herself up towards me. The moment her lips met mine, I was gone again. I didn't even care that she hadn't said she loved me back. Didn't even think about it.

In my head, I saw The Prick get old SpongeBob NoPants in a sleeper hold and once that guy was out cold, that buddy of mine held up those two tickets to Paradise. He was grinning, I swear, if you can imagine that. I didn't have to imagine the trip we were headed on. I'd already been there and I was going, again. It was becoming my all-time favourite journey and I couldn't wait to head out.

Vic pushed me over on to my back, but in all honesty, I was willing to be pushed so it was easy for her. I'd let her have her way, this time. I'd have mine later. She climbed on top of me, straddled me, poised like a huntress above me. So close…just mere inches and I'd be enveloped by that sweet, wet heat of hers. She smiled like the temptress she was, like the devil I knew her to be and I welcomed her with a hungry smile of my own. It occurred to me that the word I'd been looking for way back when had been 'sated' but apparently, that adjective had never really applied; I just hadn't known it.

"You'll appreciate this," she told me, all sultry and soft. "For your animal lover's heart, I'm about to save a horse and ride the sexiest fuckin' cowboy I've ever seen…" and oh, yeah, MY Vic was back. I closed my eyes, a soft groan escaping me as she let herself down on top of me. Slowly, exquisitely and yes, it was transcendental and sacred. Both of us were insatiable...


	7. Chapter 6 - Part II

** Author's note:**

** Part II - Walt wakes up. I mean, he REALLY wakes up, finally:) Hope you enjoy it, especially my flu-suffering 'friend'. Think of this as home-made chicken soup!:) Oh, and by the way, Chapter 7 isn't far behind this. When you stay up ALL night listening to Walt talk, you get things done! LOL:) If there's typos in this, just blame him:) Alright, blame ME! LOL Typos have become my trademark!**

**Chapter 6 - Part II**

"_**Nothing good ever came out of a whiskey bottle, Walter..."**_

"_**Time you started acting like a man instead of some kind of punk."**_

My mom's voice. My dad's voice. Why was I hearing them?

As oblivion dissolved, reality came creeping in, bringing a little comprehension with it. I began to understand why I was dreaming of my parents and that day so long ago. That day when I was fifteen and drunker than a skunk. Henry and I 'found out' by my dad. Henry's dad coming to get him, my dad hauling me home, practically by the ear. He was a big man, like me. Lean, but tough as hell.

I'd been made to sit at the kitchen table while they gave me 'the lecture' and I remembered feeling so sick that I couldn't listen to what they were saying, although I'd tried my best to appear to be. All I'd been worried about was trying to keep myself from puking. I managed, until my dad set my punishment in the form of mucking out the horse stalls, to commence immediately upon the end of 'the lecture'. I'd staggered to the barn and tried my best, even though I could hardly stand up….but the dizziness and the smell of manure got the better of me and I ended up puking for what had felt like forever, feeling much worse than the shit I'd been trying to shovel.

As reality set in a little deeper, I became aware of lying on my stomach, my arms tucked up under the down pillow that cradled the side of my face. So, I was in bed. 'Feeling' crept up and I realized that I felt hungover. Head slightly pounding, mouth as dry as dust, eyelids too heavy to open and my body felt like I'd been run over by a herd of stampeding horses. My back and my arms in particular were pretty sore.

In the groggy recesses of my mind, I searched for an explanation as to why I should be feeling this way. The hangover, well, okay, I did over-indulge in the beer from time to time, but never to the point of feeling quite like this. The aching body? Getting the shit kicked out of me was at least a monthly occurrence, but this felt different. More localized, for lack of a better word. Like I'd been doing something I hadn't done for a long time, something strenuous and out of the ordinary for me.

I thought about it. Obviously, I'd been drinking and not just beer. Felt reminiscent of that long ago whiskey experiment, but not nearly as bad, which was a good thing. It felt more like an after-thought to the beer, if that made sense. Did any of this make sense? Come to think of it, how sure was I that I was in MY bed? I mean, hell, I could barely remember anything, so why should I be certain about anything? I decided to do the painful, manly thing and open my eyes…

Good God Almighty!

I was dreaming, right? But as soon as I'd asked myself that question, I felt Reality slam in to me like a ten-ton truck. I was looking at Vic, sitting in the chair beside MY bed, all of it softly illuminated by the small bedside lamp.

She was sitting there, wearing one of my button–down shirts, sleeves rolled up, and nothing else. Her hair was loose, clean and shiny looking, falling past her shoulders. She had one lean, bare leg crossed over the other, a mug in her hands and a slight smile on her face as she watched me with those expressive eyes of hers. What they were expressing right now seemed to be mild humour mixed with tenderness. Wasn't sure if I looked as bad as I felt or if she was just happy to see me.

"You finally awake, cowboy?" and the question was low and husky, as soft as she looked.

"What the - ?" I cut myself off as I tried to roll over so I could sit up. Damn, I was one hurtin' man, in so many ways!

"Yeah, coffee first, Walt. Talk–ee later" and she got up and came to the bedside. This close to me, I could smell my shampoo on her, my soap, even MY scent on the shirt. She'd obviously showered in MY shower and I hadn't heard a thing. The bathroom was connected to the bedroom and it didn't take much sherlocking on my part to come to the conclusion that I'd been out cold.

Without taking my sore eyes off her, I managed to get myself propped up against the headboard, stupidly trying my best to keep the blankets over my lap. I suddenly KNEW she'd already seen my 'lap' in all its naked glory, but still…

She handed me the mug. Strong and black, the way I liked it. No cream or sugar, the way she took hers, so she must have been sitting there, waiting for me to wake up. She must've been sitting there watching me sleep. And just what had I done in my sleep? Play with my chest hair? She'd told me I did that, but when, exactly? I was beginning to think I'd done far less in that state than I had while awake previous to.

"Uh, thanks" was all I could think to say.

"You're welcome," she replied gently and then sat down on the edge of the bed next to me. She ran a hand down my bare chest, starting at my collar bone and ending up where the blankets covered me. Dangerously close in the moment, but I knew she'd been closer. I knew that she knew EVERY inch of me, just as I knew every sweet inch of her. The mug remained in my hands, forgotten, as I let my eyes wander over her, remembering…

"Not feeling so hot this morning?" she asked sounding maybe a little worried.

"That depends" were the first words to come out of my mouth.

"On what?" she laughed.

"On whether or not I'm remembering things right." And I took a sip of coffee, seeing in her eyes that what I remembered had in fact actually happened. Images of the two of us together waltzed through my mind.

"And?" she queried, that slightly tilted grin of hers telling me she was enjoying this.

"In relationship to what went on, I can say I'm feeling not too bad, considering" and I felt my own lips curve in to a smile. I could see that she wanted to kiss me, but I owed her some teasing. Oh yes, I recalled that little champagne incident, and while making her wait for a kiss seemed like hardly anything at all compared to that, it was the best I had at the moment.

I nonchalantly took another, longer sip of my coffee.

"One question" I told her. "Just what the hell time is it? I seem to have misplaced my watch" and I showed her my bare wrist while going back to sipping.

"I really don't know, Walt. It's still dark out, the moon's riding low…and honestly, who gives a fuck?"

She took the mug from my hands and plunked it down on the bedside table and then she was on me, over me, straddling me, sitting on my lap. Her hands slid up my chest, over my shoulders and came together behind my neck, her fingers toying with my hair. Her forehead was pressed to mine, her nose in line with mine, her lips just inches away from my own.

I slipped both my hands up under the borrowed shirt she was wearing, remembering how I'd ripped hers right off her body, the way she'd ripped mine open. I felt my way up from her hips, over the bumps of her ribs, along the underside of her breasts, closing my eyes when her lips touched mine and every single thing we'd done last night came back to me in glorious 3D HD, complete with stereo surround sound.

As a movie, on the surface, it was definitely pornographic, but below and deeper, it was so much more. The story of a man with a fire he kept deep inside, finding the only woman who could bring that fire out, take it, revel in it and give it back to him in such a way that he was glad he'd been born with it. The story of a man who tried so hard to keep it all inside that he'd resorted to using his mind to add humour to the situation, to soften it, temper it…

And I actually had to laugh out loud as I thought about THE FIGHT OF THE CENTURY, the image of my brain with stick legs and arms, waving pom-poms around, The Prick as the victor in the ring, The Brain taking one on the chin while The Prick started his happy dance. The Brain being kicked to the curb once the dance was over and the fire had been lit again. Wow, just how drunk had I been?

"Um, I don't think you're supposed to be laughing right now," Vic reminded me. I could feel her lips move against mine as she spoke.

"Oh, Vic, if you only knew the things that had gone on in my head last night, you'd laugh, too."

"I've got some thoughts of my own" she purred. "Feel like sharing?"

"I wouldn't even know where to start."

"How about where we left off" and she pressed her lips to mine again. I followed her lead, but then became self-conscious about my breath, the sticky state of my body and yeah, the smell of my sweat. I pushed her away, gently and reluctantly. If I hadn't thought about those things, chances were pretty good that I would've taken her again, right then and there and how on earth was that even possible? This fire was out of control! Yeah, she'd called me a pig and 'insatiable', but it hadn't been a complaint. Oh, no, there'd been no complaining at all. Only compliance of the most eager sort.

"I'm a mess" I told her by way of apology. She looked down at me, critically, and then laughed and told me that yeah, I was.

"Why don't you go shower," she suggested, getting off me. I missed her warmth right away. "I'll go make us something to eat, 'cause I don't know about you, but all that exercise has made me as hungry as a horse!"

As soon as she said the word 'horse' I was up and out of bed, regretting the sudden movement, but moving anyway. I grabbed a pair of jeans I'd discarded days ago and yanked them on while Vic looked at me as though I'd lost my mind.

"What the hell?"

"The horse! I forgot to feed The Horse last night!" I opened the closet and grabbed the first shirt I could find. I shrugged it on and clumsily did up the buttons. My head was pounding like one of Henry's drums, but I was too busy being mortified to pay it much attention. How could I have forgotten about The Horse? I guess it had been easy with my mind on other things, but still. Jesus, the poor guy hadn't been fed since before that trip to Bozeman!

I grabbed Vic and gave her a quick kiss, then headed out of the room, not as steady as I'd like to be.

"You're leaving me for a horse?" she called after me, playfully indignant. I noticed that the living room was a disaster and the kitchen wasn't much better. Luckily, I found my coat and boots, put them on but when I went to reach for my hat, it wasn't there. Right, it was still in the truck. I could get it on my way to the corral.

"If The Horse could feed himself, Vic, trust me, I'd still be in bed with you" I said apologetically, "or you'd be in the shower with me." She was right behind me now. My hand was on the doorknob.

"Well, apparently, wild horses CAN drag you away from me" but she was smiling. "Go feed your damn horse and I'll see if you have any damn food in this place so I can feed YOU."

"Thanks, Vic" and I left the cabin with a smile that damn near froze to my face.

It was bitterly cold out. A typical Wyoming January morning. I just hadn't been ready for it, at least not this quickly. New Year's Day. Still dark out, but as Vic had said, the full moon was riding low, almost touching the mountain tops, it's silver light making it seem even colder. My boot heels crunched in the snow and I could see my breath in white plumes. I buried my hands in my pockets and hunched my shoulders in an attempt to keep any exposed skin warm. Felt like I couldn't make it to the truck fast enough. I made a mental note to bring in more firewood once I was done with The Horse.

I opened the passenger side door and it protested in the cold. There was my hat and there were my gloves behind the seat. I put everything on, a chill running down my spine as the coldness met my body. I grabbed my rifle, too. Had to be careful out here in the dark, and maybe more especially now, while the moon was full. Wolves and other predators loved to run with the moon. By the time I made it to the corral, my gloves and hat didn't' feel quite like ice against me. Lovely thing, that body heat…and that made me think of Vic.

I opened the gate to another protest of frozen hinges and in his little 'barn' I could hear The Horse whicker and neigh. I entered, pulling the cord on the overhead light and there he was in his stall, pawing at the ground with his front hooves.

"Hey, I know, I'm sorry" I told him softly as I set my rifle aside. "I didn't mean to forget about you, buddy".

I opened his stall and he nudged up against me.

"Good morning" I told him, running one hand just under his chin, the other down between his eyes and over his nose. He was a beauty, as black as night, tall and strong. I was the lucky one when he'd decided to keep me. He nudged me again.

"I know, I know! Look, go run around and I'll get you your breakfast." I nuzzled him one more time and then slapped his rump. He took off through the barn door and I set about filling his troughs; one with food, the other with water. Even though the barn was heated, it seemed the water wasn't of a mind to flow all that well today, but I got enough to fill his trough. I'd have to look in to that later.

I fetched up a bale of hay and carried it outside, setting it down for his later consumption. Until it was clearly daylight, he'd be staying in the barn It wasn't just the wolves I was worried about; cougars would be on the prowl, too, especially with this moon. I went back in and grabbed my rifle, just in case.

I watched The Horse canter and trot around the corral, tail held high, forelegs kicking up playfully, stretching his long neck and bobbing his head every now and then. It's said that the outside of a horse Is good for the inside of a man, and that adage certainly was true. I'd have to take him out later for a ride; he'd been cooped up too long. I'd take Vic with me, too.

I sat down on the hay bale, watching The Horse and then I was watching the moon and replaying the night I'd just spent with Vic. The cold air seemed to straighten me out and then disappear as I thought back. The porno movie fascinated me but I wanted to go back further, to the beginning of it all. It was hard, though, to get past the naked image of Vic, how absolutely perfect and sexy she was, but I managed, only because I knew I'd see her like that again. And there was a very strong possibility that it would be soon. Yeah, I guess I was a pig! Couldn't help it, though; she turned me on and after last night, there was no turning me off.

I was thinking about my feelings for her while she slept against me in the truck on that forever ago ride back from Bozeman. Thinking that I loved her. That I had for quite some time. I know it had been my intention to tell her that I did, but EVERYTHING had gotten in the way…

Until that moment when I'd let it come out, that moment after so many wonderful moments. I'd finally said it, meaning it…and she hadn't said anything. She had smiled, but that was it and I'd forgotten about it once she'd climbed on top of me.

But sitting here, possibly freezing my ass off, I remembered. I tried not to place too much importance on her lack of verbal response. I mean, both of us had been so caught up in each other. Nothing else had mattered except that damn inferno between us, that all-consuming fire that engulfed us and here I sat, on a bitterly cold New Year's day, hungover, sore and yes, tired…but all I really felt was alive. So very, very alive, as though I'd just woken up to what I was, who I was and who I was meant to be with.

Vic was inside, making me breakfast, so why the hell was I sitting out here, thinking about everything? I whistled for The Horse and he came to me, prancing and rearing, nickering at me when he finally calmed down and I put my hand on him. He followed me in to the barn, back to his stall and his breakfast and I made my way back to the cabin for mine. I had an armload of wood and my rifle as I headed up the front steps.


	8. Chapter 7 - 8 - Happy New Year, Walt

**Author's Note**: **TA-DA! It's been a while, I know, but here it is, at last!The story continues. The site here insists on calling this Ch.8, so I'll go with it:) Walt's back to thinking again and this is my own take on events we know about and some we don't. Hope you enjoy it:). While I was writing this, I got another brilliant (?) idea. Don't know about you all, but I'm curious as to what's going on in Vic's head. To find out, keep your eyes on Happy New Year, Vic for updates, rated M of course:) Will pick up with her there, starting with the 'morning after'. Thanks for your patience and encouragement. Now, off to the shower with Walt and all his little demons...:)**

**CHAPTER 7/8**

I entered the cabin, a smile on my face. I think it was frozen there. Damn, it was cold out this morning! The warmth inside, such a welcome contrast, enveloped me like a good morning hug. The smell of bacon and fresh coffee set my stomach to growling.

"I was beginning to wonder if you froze to death out there," Vic greeted me. She was in the kitchen, her back to me while she fiddled with something on the stove.

"Yeah, gonna try not to come close to that again," I answered her. She knew what I was talking about. She turned, one hand on her hip, the other holding a fork that she pointed in my direction.

"Don't you even joke about_ that_," she warned me.

"You gonna punch _me_ this time?" I laughed.

"Probably," and I think she might have been serious.

"Hey, I convinced the F.B.I. not to press charges against you."

"Gee, thanks…" She continued to glare at me a moment longer. Her lips twitched. She was grinning.

Okay, I was safe…for now. I set my rifle aside once I was sure she wasn't going to use that fork on me. I took my hat off and hung it by the door, dumped the wood next to the hearth. Went back, slipped out of my jacket, tried to fix my messy hair and entered the kitchen.

_This_ was good. Vic was still wearing my shirt; not the one she'd torn the buttons off, although that would've been nice…and she'd put the fork down, which was even better. She was leaning, her back against the stove, watching me.

"I take it the horse is all fed and taken care of?"

"Yup…"

"Uh, out of curiosity, just what is his name? I mean, I can't keep calling him 'the horse'.

"That's his name…for now…"

She handed me a cup of coffee. I shortened the distance between us to accept it. Sipped at it, distracted by the sight of her. I put my free hand on my hip, most of my weight on one leg.

"'The Horse'? Seriously, Walt? It's damn obvious that _you_ didn't name Cady."

"He hasn't picked his name yet," I shrugged. Vic just shook her head.

"You can be a very strange man sometimes," but she let it drop.

"Now I suppose _you'd_ like to be fed…" and her lips twitched again while her eyes danced. Yeah, don't think she was talking about bacon for breakfast. What a delightful tease she was. And how the hell was I supposed to resist her? Standing there, drowning in my shirt, the sleeves folding back about a dozen times. Only the bare minimum of buttons done up. Her long bare legs, crossed delicately at the ankles as she leaned there. From her shining blonde hair to her tiny feet, I looked her up and down, feeling a frisky, slightly leering smile tugging at my own lips.

For some reason, I got fixated on her feet. Her painted toe nails. Pale pink and absolutely adorable! I remembered her lacy soft yellow bra and panties, which I caught a hint of beneath the shirt she was wearing, thinking how feminine they were. And now, to see her pink toe nails…

I must've seen them last night/this morning, but I hadn't really noticed them. Had been too busy noticing her other attributes. Why was I so entranced by them? Maybe I'd expected Vic to shun those female touches for…what? She was always so rough, so tough. Who knew she'd be so 'girly' underneath that uniform of hers?

That almost sounded sexist in a way, but that's not how I felt. How I felt was delighted, as though I'd found buried treasure, as though I was seeing a part of Vic that very few ever got to see. Yeah, sure, I'd seen her gloriously naked and that was a sight I'd never forget or regret but this – this was 'adorable'. Couldn't get the word out of my head.

"What are you grinning at?" she asked.

Her voice made me bring my gaze back up to her face and while she was trying to give me 'the look' – one eyebrow raised, chin tilted up, I noticed a slight blush on her cheeks. Yeah, she had a little whisker burn around her mouth and on her chin, but the pink in her cheeks was pure and natural blush!

Oh, my god, it was just too much! Pink polish, pink cheeks. Vic being slightly embarrassed, trying to hide her toes. The whole scene seemed surreal. Vic in my shirt, in my kitchen, fixing me breakfast. It all seemed so right, like she belonged here, like we did this every day and it was no big deal…

…except it was, to me.

"You're freakin' me out, Walt," but I barely heard her.

That porno movie was running through my head again but it ended with this; the two of us in the kitchen, getting ready for the day. And that's what I wanted. Oh, for sure, the sex, too, but this, this was how it should be. One without the other just didn't seem…complete.

I set my mug down on something. The table? Wherever. I set it down and I went to her. I took her in my arms, heard her gasp. I nuzzled her. She groaned softly. I trailed kisses down her neck, pushing the collar of the shirt out of the way, continued over her collarbone. She squirmed. I opened my eyes, saw evidence of the kisses I'd given her before, faint red marks and some not so faint. I'd marked her…and that pleased me.

I made my way back up her neck again until my lips brushed her ear.

"Oh, Vic," and I was a bit breathless. "Vic, I lo-"

"Oh, my god, Walt! You are soo cold! And you smell like a horse!"

She was pushing me away. Hhhmmm. I stepped back, held her at arm's length. Studied her. She smiled apologetically and nervously? Yup, there was something there alright.

"You need to go have a hot shower," she scolded me, and it seemed she was fumbling for the words. Trying to sound all bossy, but not being as good at it this time as she usually was. Was I really that cold or was she just that unwilling to hear what I wanted to say, what I'd already said and what she'd neglected to respond to?

I stood there, looking down at her, trying to figure it out. No more smile on my part.

"Really," and she gave me that weird smile again, along with a half-hearted chuckle. "You're freezing! Go take a shower and warm up."

"What about breakfast?" I asked, the wheels spinning in my head, the little twist of perceived rejection knotting deep in my gut.

"Everything's ready but the eggs. I was waiting til you came in to put them on. I can wait a little longer."

She drew away from me, leaving my hands to dangle at my sides. She looked down, tucked her hair behind her ears and turned back to the stove.

"It's a wonder I could find anything in that fridge of yours, besides beer" and she was trying to sound relaxed, teasing, but I wasn't buying it.

"I was going to make frittata, but there isn't one fuckin' veggie in this whole damn place and I mean, seriously, do you have _any_ plates that match? Jesus, Walt, how the hell do you survive?"

"That's what Henry's for," I replied. She was babbling. I could play along, for now. My hands went back to my hips. I watched her. She must have felt it. She turned to look at me, biting her lip, uncomfortable.

"Well, it's going to be bacon and eggs this morning, cowboy."

Again with that forced lightness. Yup, maybe a shower wasn't a bad idea right about now. I needed to think about all this and I did some of my best thinking in the shower.

"Alright, I'll go…Wanna join me?"

Might as well try. She hesitated for a moment, actually looking a bit torn. A possible good sign?

"I already had one."

She smacked me in the chest with the back of one hand, the way she always did when I said something stupid, or what she thought of as stupid, anyway. She was trying to be her usual Vic, but I wasn't blind….and she knew that.

What the hell? Things were not going the way I thought they would. I unbuttoned my shirt in front of her. Saw her watching. Saw the tip of her tongue moisten her lips before looking down again. Down, up, anywhere but right at me. Okay then, she still wanted me; she just didn't want to hear what I had to say. That's all it was, right?

Well, well, well…

"I'll try not to be too long," I called to her as I made my way to the bedroom.

"Don't rush," she answered back. "No hurry."

"Yeah, I got that," I muttered as I stripped down.

So, Walt…any doubts that she heard you the first time around?

Not a one. Things had definitely changed with Vic while I'd been outside and maybe she was remembering that little slip of mine. She had sure reacted when I'd gone to say it again. I was convinced she'd cut me off deliberately.

I really didn't know how to feel. Pissed off? Offended? Hurt? Angry?

I went in to the bathroom, actually closed the door behind me and turned on the shower. While I waited for it to heat up, I took a piss. Oh, okay, that was a feeling I could identify. I wasn't the only one with a hangover this morning. The Prick was feeling a little delicate himself, but while I'd been reviewing the porno outside and inside, he'd been interested, so I wasn't feeling too sorry for him. It was clear as day that if I'd kept my mouth shut and just carried Vic back to bed, The Prick would be thoroughly enjoying himself once more. It was my heart I felt sorry for.

"What the hell, Vic?"

I prided myself on being able to read people. Even I had to admit I was pretty good at it, especially when it came to lies and evasion….and Vic was evading me. It crossed my mind that maybe she'd even go so far as to leave while I was in the shower, but no, she wouldn't do that, would she?

"_Slow down, Walt, just slow it right down_."

Oh, good, The Brain was alive. Even sounded sober. Nothing like a little fear to set a fella straight.

"_She's not gonna leave, Walt. Sure, she's a little skittish, but doesn't look ready to bolt_."

Okay, then. Maybe it was time to start listening to The Brain.

"Lay it on me, buddy," I encouraged him as I stepped in to the shower. I had to admit, the hot spray did feel good. So good, in fact, that I could almost convince myself that maybe I had been a little too cold for Vic, that her pulling away from me really was due to that fact, but 'almost' was a little far from 'sure' for my liking.

"_Hey, big guy, you wanna turn around? That spray might feel good on the rest of you, but jeez, it's killing ME!"_

The Prick did make a good point. I turned in sympathy and was rewarded with a hot water massage that made my back feel so wonderful. So wonderful that I couldn't help but groan with relief and pleasure. I was one beat-up S.O.B. this morning!

"No kidding, Walt! You go from being celibate to running a sexual marathon! You ain't no kid anymore…just sayin'…" and oh, how nice to see The Brain had found its sense of humour again!

"Catch that sarcasm, buddy?" I muttered. Oh, God, if Vic walked in here right now and heard me talking to myself, she'd leave for sure! If Vic walked in here right now, what would I do?

Wasn't the first time I'd had THAT thought.

When I'd made her stay over here that time Gorski was after her, I'd found myself in this shower having the exact same thought. At that time though, there was no way ANYTHING would have happened. She was married to Sean, then. Sure, the thought had run through my mind, but in my book, even thinking about another man's wife was taking it too far but I did it anyway. And then Lizzie had showed up on some lame pretext and the shit totally hit the fan! Accusing Vic and I of being up to something, accusing me of still being so in love with my 'dead wife'. If only she'd known the truth…

It had been awkward after that between Vic and I. And now, here it was, awkward again between us. For different reasons. Was I just imaging it? Was I making something out of nothing? Was I just projecting my own fear on to the situation?

"_Maybe now YOU know what it's like to be in love with someone who might not love you back._"

Trust The Brain to bring up that point! Said point was valid, but I wasn't going to go there, not now. Thoughts of Martha belonged 'back there' with those thoughts of 'bad medicine' I vaguely remembered having last night. Didn't feel ready to face all that! Best to concentrate on the here and now; the fear that Vic didn't love me. Wasn't feeling all that ready to face that possibility, either, but it was at least the 'here and now'.

Unfortunately for me, the past seemed hesitant to leave and The Brain seemed intent on taking a stroll down Memory Lane. Should've just fed that guy a few beers this morning and left him to sleep it off. Too late now, though. He'd taken that exit to 'Back Then' and being somewhat attached to him, I was forced to follow.

Martha.

It didn't take much effort for me to see her face. Her sky-blue eyes, her dark auburn hair. The hesitant, shy smile she'd always had for me 'back then'. A tall, slender girl, Wyoming-bred through and through. The daughter of a horse breeder, she had that Western, outdoorsy look about her. Clear skin, sunshine all around her…

…and there I was, back in the truck on that drive home from Bozeman while Vic slept next to me. Thinking Martha would be happy for me, happy about having Vic in my life, that they were alike and in some ways they were, but in more ways, they were nothing alike at all. And as for Martha being happy about this thing between me and Vic…Yeah, might have coloured that thought just a little too rosy.

I was thinking I'd let her go, finally, and moved on. Maybe I'd never really be able to let go completely. There was just too much guilt there where Martha was concerned…and a lot of it didn't have anything to do with the way she'd died The guilt began almost as soon as our relationship had.

Best not to think about all that, not now. I didn't want to think about it. Tried to make a U-turn back to NOW, but The Brain wasn't having it. Okay, fine, get on with it…

There'd only ever been a handful of people who'd known the truth about me, Martha and our marriage. Our parents were four of them, but they were all gone now. Henry was another one, but he would never, ever say a word about it, although we had come close to it last night in the bar. Close, with Cady in the same room. That made me cringe. It had been my fault, I'd started the conversation, but thank god Henry had been in his right mind. Sure, we'd touched on it a bit, but Cady had been up on stage with Vic and touching on it was as far as it had gone.

"Keep on going, Walt," The Brain encouraged me forward. Apparently, Memory Lane only ran one way. Okay, then, I'd keep going…

I'd done a poor job of keeping Cady from finding out how her mother had died. I'd tried, to protect her, to honour Martha's last wish and then that bastard Fales had come along…

My fist clenched at the thought of that vindictive little creep. Yeah, didn't do a thing to find Martha's killer, but he sure did move heaven and earth to come after _me_! He'd almost destroyed the fragile relationship I had with Cady and if he ever stepped foot in my county again…

"Let it go," I told myself trying to relax.

It was over. It was done. This time, the only secret I was keeping from Cady now really was for her own good. Even her mother would agree. There was no reason for her to know about it. It would never come out. There was no reason for it to.

"_**Your secrets and sins will always find you out, Walter**_, _**so always try your best to live an honest life**_."

Yeah, bring my mom in to this, you asshole! Oh, why not? I'd woken up this morning to my parent's voices and a not so great memory so why not keep it going? Was I being given a warning about this thing I kept from Cady? Was I supposed to have learned something about keeping secrets from her? No, not this time, ma….

As far as everyone was concerned, I was the heartbroken, grieving widower, the Sheriff who'd been so in love with his wife that losing her had almost killed him. It was all so romantic, so tragic and best left at that. There wasn't a single person walking around free who would dare to question that image of me, that image of my marriage. I was alone with it, my mother's remembered admonition to the contrary not counting. People didn't talk about it with me and the only one who would knew better. Henry left that story entirely up to me to tell or not. We never talked about it, but we'd come close…

So many things I'd done wrong. So many things I wished I could take back or do differently. So many, too many damn things! I felt the past pulling at me again as it had last night. Cady, Branch, Ferg even Ruby!

Nope, not going_ there_! Not taking _that_ side trip!

It was too much to deal with, especially in my not so great condition. All I should be worrying or thinking about right now was Vic. What had happened between us was more than enough to deal with, thank you very much!

Vic.

How could I think of her without thinking of the past? Our past? The town The Brain was now leading me through on this backwards trip was called 'Victoria Moretti-ville. Population, one unforgettable woman! Couldn't argue with that description!

I loved her. She was the one. I loved her, but how did she feel about me? Last night, before all the sex, I'd been sure at one moment that if I'd told her when I'd wanted to, she would've thrown herself in my arms, covered me with kisses and said she loved me too.

So many things from out past had made me believe in that scenario. The way she dealt with me while I'd been dealing with Cady's accident. The way she'd talked to me in that bar in Arizona, telling me things about herself when I knew Vic didn't talk much about herself to anyone. The way she's slugged that FBI agent when I'd been lost on that mountain and no one was able to come after me. I'd only heard about that, but I'd seen so many other moments with my own eyes.

One of the biggest had been when Chance had taken her hostage. When I'd called him out and I'd finally seen Vic, I thought I was going to lose it. She was so beat up, barely able to stand, her long hair a tangled mess, her mascara running down her face with her tears, fear in her eyes as I told Chance it was just him and me. Told him to let everyone else go and we'd settle it. She begged me not to do it but I hadn't seen any other way to get her free. I was willing to die for her then…and the funny thing was, I'd had Gorski with me, helping me and if that wasn't weird, I don't know what was!

But Vic only had eyes for me. Even when Gorski bundled her off in the car and drove away, Vic kept her eyes on me from the back seat. And I kept my eyes on her. Chance could've popped me off any time, but I couldn't not watch Vic leaving me. I wanted her gone, I wanted her safe and I wanted to keep looking at her forever.

Yeah, that was probably the first time I'd acknowledged how much she meant to me. It didn't bother me one little bit that Sean was right there in the back seat with her. Hadn't been able to take my eyes off his wife and she hadn't been able to take hers off me.

That was definitely a moment I'd never forget!

After she was gone, when it was just me and Chance, we counted off. We fired at the same time. I got him in the heart. I knew I wouldn't miss, not after what he did to Vic, all because of me. He got me in the arm. Hurt like hell. Bleed like a stuck pig. I managed to stay on my feet. He went down, though, never to get back up. I'd heard sirens in the distance. Ed must've called it in; I certainly hadn't.

Before the clean-up crew arrived, I was shocked to see the Bullet racing down the road towards me, careening all over the place. Almost fell on my ass when it came to a sideways halt, less that ten feet in front of me, but as the driver's side flew open, it was Vic who fell on her ass.

I was so shocked to see her. For a moment, I couldn't move. I just stood there, grasping my arm, trying to stop the bleeding, in total shock at the sight of her. She managed to get to her feet and started running to me as erratically as she'd been driving. That broke me out of my stupor and I ran to her, caught her and swept her up in my arms.

"You're alive," she breathed, barely a whisper. She looked completely wild and frantic.

"I was so scared, Walt…I thought you were dead…" and the tears were spilling from her eyes.

She reached up to touch my face, her shaking hands bloody from the lacerations on her wrists and then, suddenly, she'd gone limp while I held her. Her dead-weight was too much for my wounded arm and I fell to my knees, still holding her. I wiped at her face. I kissed her forehead. I held her close to me and the shaking started. It felt like she'd died in my arms. A horrible feeling. Another thing I'd NEVER forget.

That's how the paramedics found us. I was doing my best to bring her around, to wake her up. They took her from me and I was left there on my knees. After they'd bundled Vic up in the ambulance, one of them came back to tell me that I could ride in the ambo with her, that I needed to get checked out, but Branch was on the scene now, coming towards me.

Branch already had a chip on his shoulder about the 'special' relationship I had with Vic. I couldn't let him see me distraught. I couldn't let him see how worried I was about her. I couldn't let him see the love I felt for her on my face. I got to my feet and waved the ambo away. Told them I'd be at the hospital as soon as I'd finished up.

By the time Branch got to me, I was my usual cool, collected self, on the outside anyway. My mind was on Vic, my thoughts with her. If he saw any of it, he didn't say a word. To give him credit, he was pretty concerned for Vic himself. Even seemed a bit frustrated with my one word answers to his questions as to what had happened to her and how Chance had ended up dead on his own front lawn.

The two of us dumped Chance's body in the back of my truck. Branch went to file his report, I went to drop the body off at the morgue and then it was on to see Doc Weston to get stitched up. By the time I got to the hospital, the bleeding had mostly stopped, although I did feel a little woozy from the loss of blood.

I was in the same place as Vic. Under the fluorescent lights, I felt so close, yet so far. Sean was here, too and I couldn't ignore that fact! I asked the doc if he knew how they were. Sean had a concussion, not too serious and some bruises, sore ribs, but Vic had a grade III concussion, VERY serious and was refusing treatment. Possible fractured ribs and some deep lacerations on her wrists from being cuffed to the chair and trying her best to escape. She'd let them bandage her wrists, but that was about all she let them do to her.

"You've gotta talk some sense in to the deputy of yours, Walt," the doc had told me," but first, you better let me sew you up before you start bleeding all over the place again."

I'd just taken my shirt off and sat on the examination table when the door to the room opened. It was Vic. She looked like the walking dead. Without a word, she picked up my coat and hat from the chair, sat down and held them in her lap. No one said anything. I knew what I wanted to say, but I had no right to say the things I was thinking of. Doc Weston, well, he just looked at me, looked at Vic and then set about stitching me up. The silence had been heavy, almost eerie. Vic didn't look at me. Just sat there, head bowed, worrying at the bullet hole in my jacket with her fingers. Oddly enough, she was sitting in what was commonly referred to as the 'wife's chair'. Doc knew that, I knew that and so did Vic.

"Just needed some stitching," I said in her direction, trying to make a joke, trying to do anything to break the silence. She did look up then, ran a shaking hand over her mouth, but there was no expression, not on her face or in her eyes. She was still such a mess though….but I found her beautiful. Vulnerable. As I stood up, all sewn back together and good as new, Vic got to her feet. I slipped on my shirt while Doc Weston went to her.

"Grade three concussion. Very serious. I advise you to check yourself in overnight, at least, young lady."

When Vic failed to acknowledge him, he looked at me." I'd try," I sent to him. He shrugged and then he was gone. I was going to do my shirt up when Vic held out my jacket to me. I went to take it with one hand, trying to hold my shirt closed with the other. Instead of grabbing my jacket though, I grabbed her wrist. I couldn't help it. I needed to touch her to make sure she was real and not the apparition she appeared to be.

She looked at me. Her eyes weren't dead anymore. I saw it all; all her pain, all her fear and knew not all the fear was for herself. A lot of it was for me. This was the second time she'd had to stand by, not knowing if I was going to live or die. All my fault. She should've been with Sean, her husband, but she was here, with me, instead. Looking like a ghost. Looking so small and lost.

I pulled her towards me. I shouldn't have, but I did. How could I not? The jacket fell to the floor, unnoticed as she came to me. Her arms went around me in a fierce hug, she buried her face in my chest and I felt her tears, hot and flowing freely. She didn't make a sound, but she cried her eyes out. I held her, stroked her hair and loved her in that moment like I've never loved any other woman.

I closed my eyes and held her tighter trying to tell her by doing so how sorry I was. For everything. For riling Chance up in the first place, for taking so long to get her out of there, for all that had happened to her because of me. For watching her leave and leaving her wondering. For being in love with her. For stealing this moment with her, for holding her like she was mine. For being so weak…

I wanted to cry myself. And I wanted to kiss her. Kiss away her fear. Kiss away her pain. Kiss her and make it all better but kissing her would only make it worse. Kissing her would be the death of both of us.

In the shower I was reliving that moment in the hospital but this time, I let the tears come. They slid down my face to mingle with the water that ran like loving hands down my chest. What a wonderful, horrible moment it had been. So right. So wrong. That was the moment I KNEW I loved her and the moment I knew I had no right to. The defining moment. Any others had just been thoughts, passing quickly through my mind and just as quickly buried deep under a big layer of guilt.

It was that same guilt that made me loosen my grip on her. Made me bend down a little. Made me wipe the tears from her face with my shirt tails, made me hold her poor face in both my hands and make her look at me.

"Vic…You have to go now. You have to check yourself in or I will. I'm okay, but you're not."

"I can't…" and the tears had started again.

"You have to!"

I didn't want to send her away. I wanted to take her home with me, watch over her, heal her, be with her, but I couldn't. It wasn't my place. She had a husband waiting for her. She could sit in the wife's chair, but she wasn't MY wife.

"Honey, you need to stay here. You need to get taken care of. Sean must be worried about you."

Those words had damn near choked me, but they had to be said. They only seemed to make Vic cry harder.

"Walt, please….don't leave me…don't make me go…I want to stay with you…I want to be – I want…I want…"

Her eyes rolled up in her head and she fainted. I caught her. This was not good! I kicked the door open and ran down the hallway to the front desk. A nurse saw me. Knew them all, but couldn't tell you to this day who it was. It was all a blur. The orderly with the gurney, Doc Weston pushing me aside, everyone disappearing behind a double set of doors to my right.

I stood there at the desk, feeling as helpless as I'd felt when Cady had been here, being operated on. I went to go through those same doors, but someone grabbed me. This time it was Doc Bloomfield.

"Come with me, Walt" he said simply. "She's in good hands. She'll be okay."

I hesitated and while I did, I caught sight of Sean. He was racing from the ER to the desk. We looked at each other.

"What the hell, Walt?" he shouted at me. There was nothing but hate for me in his eyes.

"Sean, I –"

"Why the hell are you ALWAYS in our life?" and then he was gone, a nurse taking him to Vic.

"C'mon, Walt." Bloomfield was tugging on my arm. "You just dropped off a fresh corpse and we've got some paperwork to take care of. Vic's hubby's just upset. He'll get over it."

…but he didn't.

Two days later, I was back at work, in my office. Vic was on leave. I'd given her two weeks after talking to Doc Weston. There was a knock on my door. Ruby entered telling me Sean was there to see me. I told her to give me a minute. I used the time to get myself together, to seat myself casually in my chair. He was on my turf now. Right or wrong, I wasn't going to act nervous. I knew he wasn't there to give me an update on Vic. I pulled out some paperwork and called Ruby to show him in. She did and then she left, giving me an inquiring look on her way out. I mouthed 'it's okay' and invited Sean to sit down. I made him wait, pretending to be absorbed in budget details. Yeah, right…

"So, what can I do for you?" I asked a few moments later, throwing my pen aside and leaning back in my chair.

"You can stay the hell away from my wife, for starters" he glared at me.

"I haven't seen Vic for days" I replied, being deliberately dense.

"You know what I mean." And I did. I'd tried calling Vic on her cell the other day to see how she was doing, only Sean had answered the phone. It hadn't gone well. This wasn't going to, either.

"I was just checking up on her, Sean. She does work for me."

"You could've called the house. You could've asked me. She's MY wife, not yours!"

"How many times do I have to tell you that there's nothing going on between Vic and I. I'm her boss, she's my deputy. End of story" and wow, I could really lie when I wanted to, especially when I was lying to myself. So much for living an honest life!

"Well, maybe you should tell Vic that, Walt! When we were in that nuthouse, they threw a body bag down in that hole with us. Did she tell you about that? Did she tell you how she thought it was you in there? Did she tell you how she screamed and went totally nuts trying to get it open to see? To find out if her lover was in that bag?" and now, he was shouting.

I didn't know anything about that interesting tid-bit, but the last thing I was going to act was surprised in front of Sean. Instead, I stood up, towering over him. Leaning forward, my hands on the desk.

"What Vic tells me is none of your business, Sean and how she reacted to that body isn't any of mine! If she wanted me to know, she would've told me."

While I was saying that, it was going through my mind that perhaps my feelings for Vic weren't so one sided. Had to admit that the idea had pleased me in a perverse sort of way.

Sean got to his feet, but the threat was almost laughable. I could've knocked him down with a good cuff.

"Well, my wife being in love with her 'boss' does concern ME and stop giving me that shit about nothing going on between you and Victoria! I'm sick of it, Walt! As a matter of fact, maybe you better get used to not having her around here anymore because as far as I'm concerned, she's not coming back!"

"Is that what Vic says, Sean?"

"That's what I'm telling her!"

"Well, good luck with that. You of all people should know, no one tells Vic what to do."

I sat back down, laced my fingers together, crossed my legs and looked at him. Really looked at him.

Gorski had been right; Sean wasn't Vic's type at all. He was trying to intimidate me, but it just wasn't working. He just didn't have the presence to pull it off. Really, what did Vic see in him? Sure, compared to Gorski, I could see the stability, the evenness, the routine, the 'safe'….but was that really what was best for her? Apparently not, judging by the number of times I'd found her waking up in the cell not all that far from my office door or the number of times she'd been pissed about something Sean had said or done or not done.

Looking at him, I almost felt sorry for him, my feelings for Vic aside. He seemed out of his league, so unaware of who is wife really was. I backed all the way down. I ran a hand over my chin, trying to carefully pick my next words. No matter what Sean was, he was the man Vic had taken for her husband. I had to respect that, had tried, even if I didn't understand it or him.

"Sean…if I were you, I'd leave all this alone. I swear to you, there is nothing between me and Vic except a healthy, respectful and decent admiration for one another as colleagues. (Lie, lie, lie) She's a good cop, a great cop. She's so overqualified as far as being my deputy goes that I'm shocked that she hasn't up and left Wyoming all together, to find something better. If she sticks around, I've got plans for her if she wants to advance, but if she doesn't, if she'd rather just go, that's up to her, not you! You can tell me all you want what Vic's going to do or not do, but I'm not listening until I hear it from Vic herself. Just…let this all go. It was a horrible time for both of you. A nightmare…and I'm sorry about it all."

"Well, you should be!"

"I am, truly…but I got you both out of there. You're alive. Vic's alive. That's what matters. Be thankful and just get on with it. If you love her, then love her and forget about the rest of it. Tell her you love her instead of telling her what she should or shouldn't do. She sure won't thank you for that."

"And you know my wife so well, Walt? You think you've got some right to tell me how to deal with her?"

"I'm just trying to give you some advice, Sean."

"Well, you can stuff it up your ass, Sheriff! The last person I'd take advice from about my WIFE is you!"

"Suit yourself. Maybe I should've called it a warning instead. You push Vic, you're asking for trouble."

"We'll see about that" and Sean was heading for the door.

"I told you before to stay away from her. If I can't make you listen, then I'll make Victoria listen.!" 'Victoria'? Who the hell was HE talking about?

"You really don't know _Vic_ at all, do you, Sean?" Made my point with that emphasis.

"Well, one thing I do know is that _you're_ never going to know her…and that's in the biblical sense, asshole!" and with that, he was gone slamming the door behind him.

Two days later, Vic was back at work. I suggested that maybe she should rethink that decision. She glared at me in response. She definitely hadn't been herself. Moody, quiet. More irritable than usual, without a trace of humour. Not even on eff word out of her. Not a good sign!

So much had been going on then that after that first attempt to make her rethink her coming back to work, I just let it go. And truth be told, after that scene in the hospital and the 'talk' with Sean, having her around me, especially in that strange state she was in, made me uncomfortable. I'd even gone so far as to talk to Doc Weston about it, about her behaviour. He had told me it was to be expected with her head injury. Emotional changes seemed a by-product of a severe concussion. He assured me she'd go back to be her 'old self' in time. I kept her on light-duty. She didn't argue.

Three days after her return to work, she knocked on my office door. Came in. Stood by the door instead of plopping herself down in the chair by my desk as she usually did. Found it hard to look at me. Told me with a barely contained anger that Sean was making her chose between her job and him. So, the fool had gone ahead and done it.

I'd sat there, so many thoughts going through my head. I wanted to tell her how much she meant to me, how badly I wanted her to stay. How badly it would hurt me if she left. Instead, I matter-of-factly told her that I'd lost deputies before. It was no big deal. I'd be able to replace her and oh, those words, delivered without emotion, were some of the hardest words I'd ever uttered.

I wanted her to do what was best for HER. I wanted to distance myself from her decision, especially after finding out how she'd freaked out, thinking it was me in the body bag. After the beating she'd taken, her cognitive skills weren't all they should have been. I couldn't be sure that what she seemed to feel for me was real or just an uncontrolled emotional response to all that had happened to her. Would I have acted differently if I'd taken her response seriously?

There sure was a big part of me that wanted to believe she was in love with me, even though that thought only led to further complications. I wasn't in the habit of stealing another man's wife, but then again, I'd never been in love with a married woman before.

"_**Secrets and sins**_." Had I been hearing my mother's words even back then? Maybe…

Guilt for being in love with Vic, shame at admitting it to myself, desire to just take her in my arms and to say to hell with Sean and everything else kept me sitting in my chair. Kept my words simple. There'd been so many other things to deal with back then. I had to keep my head on straight, had to eliminate complications so I could focus on things other than wanting another man's wife. Had to leave Vic free to make her own decision.

"So, I'm replaceable," was all she'd said to me, arms folded tightly across her chest as she stood looking down at me. Anger smouldered in her eyes.

"You're free to do whatever works for you," was all I'd been able to say. She glared at me and then dropped her arms.

"So glad we could have this little heart-to-heart, asshole!" The sarcasm had felt like acid.

She'd left my office with a slam of the door. I'd sat there, confused, rubbing a hand over my forehead. Just what had she expected me to say? I didn't own her. I couldn't tell her what to do. She'd already made THAT clear! My opinion of what was best for her was biased, to say the least. I wanted her with me. I wanted her to leave Sean and stay with me, but I couldn't tell her that.

In moments of weakness on both our parts, things had already gone too far between us. I could lie to Sean, could lie to everyone else, but I had to stop lying to myself. I was head over heels in love with Vic. The thought of her leaving made me ache inside, but that was my problem, not hers. It was my sin to bear, my wrongness to try to make right, My secret, my shame, my total lack of moral judgement. I'd felt all that and gee, maybe I had some ethics somewhere.

Then Sean had left the divorce papers for me to serve to Vic. Talk about poetic justice! And talk about awkward! I imagine it was Sean's way of saying 'here you go, asshole'.

What he didn't know was that it was also my way to ask Vic to stay and I did. I'd explained to her that it hadn't been my place to ask her before, but now that she was getting divorced…Maybe those ethics weren't as strong as I'd thought.

She hadn't said much. Not to my asking her to stay or to her divorce papers. She simply asked me if I had a pen. I hadn't pushed her. Doc Weston told me that the emotional, maybe even mental consequences of her concussion could last for some time. If we were ever going to have a conversation about 'us' I wanted it to be when she was one hundred percent herself…

...and then, other things had gotten in the way. Others things that had seemed far more important and more personally pressing than whether or not Vic and I were going to get together. At that time, I wasn't real sure about my mental or emotional state, either. Finding out that Miller Beck had been hired by someone else to kill Martha, having my suspicions as to who that someone else might be came to fill my head to the exclusion of everything else.

And so, time had gone on.

Vic stayed, healed and came to terms with her new marital status. Put her house up for sale, got an apartment. Settled in to life in Wyoming. We danced around each other, but never together.

I finally scattered Martha's ashes, crying while I did so. Letting her go, so I thought, so I could get on with ending the whole damn thing. Sorrow and guilt had been all I could think about while I watched her ashes being blown away by the wind. It should have been a time of healing for me, too, but stronger than the guilt was the need for vengeance.

Martha. I should've been a better husband to her. She could've been a better wife to me. We'd said our vows, but we'd glossed over the commitment that went with them. With Cady all grown up and on her own, maybe we could've worked something out between us. And then the cancer had come and changed everything. Maybe it would've killed her, maybe not. The doctors in Denver had been quietly optimistic about her prognosis, but in the end, something else, SOMEONE ELSE had decided to take away all the possibilities of a future and that someone as far as I knew, was Jacob Nighthorse and I meant to get him, to make him pay for leaving so much unfinished for both of us. Yes, there'd been love of a sort between us. Maybe we could've worked things out, maybe not. I'd never know that for sure...and neither would she.

Once I'd finished scattering her ashes on the hill we'd been married on so long ago, I'd ridden The Horse back to the cabin and set about arming myself with every weapon I owned. Knife, side-arm, shotgun and enough ammo to take on a small army. I was going to get that sonofabitch. Either shoot him down, blow his head off or gut him like a fish. One way or another, I was going to end his life, the way he'd ended Martha's.

I left my badge on the kitchen table that day. I wasn't going in as the Sheriff. I was going in as a man seeking some justice for his wife and maybe some redemption for himself. I'd never been able to give her the one thing she'd wanted from me in life, but in death, the least I could do was make Nighthorse pay and myself, too, in the process.

I knew that what I was about to do would end my career, would land me in jail if I somehow survived and I didn't care one little bit about any of that! I owed Martha and I meant to pay that debt the only way I knew how. That deep and silent rage inside me was neither deep nor silent that day. It controlled me and I let it.

Turned out I'd been wrong about Nighthorse. It was Vic that got that through to me. It was Vic that saved my life that day by doing what needed to be done and keeping me as far away from it all as she could.

Barlow Connalley had killed my wife. Had hired Miller Beck to do it. Had tried to kill Branch when he'd learned the truth while I was on my way after Nighthorse. Branch had ended up shooting his own father in self-defence and Vic had been there to take care of it all. Barlow hadn't died...not then. A few months later, he'd been found dead in his jail cell under what was termed 'mysterious circumstances...

I should've seen it. I shoud've known it was him. I never should've underestimated that prick or taken him so lightly all those years ago, but I honestly hadn't seen him as a threat. True, he'd never liked me, but what happened between us had been almost thirty years in the past. Between the three of us; me, Barlow and Martha. He knew that truth. He'd killed her to make me pay, to make her pay, too and when I saw him in the ER with my own eyes, it had taken every ounce of strength I owned not to grab him by the throat and finish what Branch had started. Luckily, Vic had kept me from getting close enough to try. Doc Weston had lent a hand, too. Later, though, in jail...

Wrong, wrong, wrong! I'd been so damn wrong about him! And I should've known better. There'd been times in those past thirty years that he'd come sniffing around, behind my back, but that was all over now, too, right?

In the shower, I slammed my fist against the wall. Oh, great, another hole! Good thing I hadn't gotten around to finishing the shower yet. The extra hole was barely noticeable.

"You okay in there, Walt?"

I heard Vic ask me that over the sound of the running water. Good question. Was I okay? No! Was I going to tell her that? Nope…

"Just dropped the soap," I lied. "I'll be out right away. Just gotta rinse off."

That must've satisfied her because I didn't hear anything else from her. Her question had brought me back to the present, though. The Present. It was just as wrong as the Past.

Here I was, the morning after the most magnificent sex I'd ever known. The most uninhibited sex I'd ever engaged in and all I could think about was how wrong it had been. Not the sex itself. No matter what had gone on last night, it would've ended in sex. I was more than okay with THAT! It was just the fact that I hadn't gone about any of it the RIGHT way.

I should've told Vic how I felt. How I'd felt for so long now. This year later, I could actually think again. I should've thought better. Didn't I know, better than most, how life could turn on a dime?

Instead, I'd chickened out, had said the wrong thing and then just acted. By my own actions and lack of words, I'd made this whole thing between us about sex. I hadn't been able to say 'I love you' but I sure could say 'I want you'. No problem getting that out! I'd let The Prick do the talking for me then and here I was, hung over as hell, sore all over and running out of hot water while Vic did her evasion dance this fine, cold New Year morning; while I went round and round in my own solo dance with my thoughts.

What did I KNOW? That was the question.

I knew that I loved her. I'd loved her for so long now. All the excuses I had for not telling her did have some validity, but I KNEW it boiled down to me just being afraid to deliberately say those words to her. They'd slipped out last night in the ever poetic 'throes of passion' and again this morning, they'd almost repeated themselves when I'd been so caught up in the sight of her, the feel of her. That wasn't the way to tell her, not when I was weak with desire for her, or spell bound by her. I'd done it wrong, AGAIN!

But I could set it right. I could try, at least, I HAD to try! I wanted more than just sex with her. I wanted to wake up with her every morning. I wanted to end every evening with her in my bed, in my arms, making love to each other, not just having sex. Every night if that's the way it went. I wanted all of it and she needed to know that. She needed to hear it from me and I needed to say it without being out of my mind with desire for her.

I should've been well sated after last night, but just thinking about her set things to stirring. Washing the dried remnants of whipped cream, champagne and sex from my body brought it all back to me, but wash it all away I would…and face her like a man.

"You just keep on believing that, buddy," The Brain cheered as I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

I dried myself off, noticing all the new marks on my body that complimented all the old scars I had before wrapping the towel around my waist .Bruises, scratches, hickeys in the strangest places…and even a few bite marks. Talk about reminders!

"Yeah, that was fun," The Prick snickered smugly. He was remembering, too…

"Back the hell off, buddy," I muttered.

Enough! This inner battle between The Prick and The Brain had to end! I had to stop being so torn between them when it came to Vic. It was ridiculous to be fighting with myself over her. Time to just shut those two down and try to find the voice of my heart. Better yet, time to find my own voice for a change.

I wiped the condensation from the mirror and examined my face. Ran a hand over my whiskers. Before I could think about it, I grabbed my razor and what had to be the oldest can of shaving cream in Wyoming and set to it.

When I was done, I ran my hands over my face again. No rasping. Smooth. So different. Why not?

I studied my reflection. Eyes slightly blood-shot but feeling better. Maybe a few more lines around them than the last time I'd ever spent any time looking at myself, which honestly wasn't very often. Straight nose and strong chin; more my mother's look than my father's. A little weathered by the sun in summer and worn by the cold winds of winter, a little older by life itself, but overall, not too bad.

I stood there, facing myself, mentally rehearsing what I wanted to say to Vic, How I wanted to say it.

"_**Think before speaking, son**_," and this time, it was my father's voice I heard. His sage advice to the long ago me. His words of wisdom and perhaps his legacy. How many times had he said those words to me? So many. He'd also been fond of another phrase, another bit of advice -

"_**Let's just get this the hell over with, Walt**_."

"Amen to that, Dad," I spoke softly. "I have thought this thing to death!"

I left my reflection behind and went to get dressed. From the bedroom, I could hear Vic moving around. I pulled on a pair of clean jeans and a dark blue shirt. Tucked everything in all nice and neat, slipped my belt on, made to grab my watch off the bedside table out of habit but it wasn't there. Had to be around the place somewhere. No big deal. I'd find it.

I gave my hair another few rubs with the towel. It was still slightly damp. I ran a comb through it anyway. I took one deep breath, squared my shoulders, spared a glance at the rumpled bed and wished I could just take her back there and forget everything else.

But I couldn't. I wouldn't. Time was precious and it just kept slipping away. If nothing else, that little trip down Memory Lane had shown me that. With every passing second, I was only getting older. A person was only given so many days and I'd wasted enough of mine. This thing with Vic; it was either going to go somewhere or not. What I REALLY KNEW was that it was finally time to end this particular dance. The song was coming to an end. Were we going to dance with others or just keep clinging to each other and stay that way for the rest of our lives? After all the wrongness in my life, it was entirely possible that I was wrong about Vic. Maybe it had only been the fact that I'd brought the cold day inside with me and not my attempt to say 'I love you' that made her pull away from me. Still had my doubts, though…

Another deep breath. A quick rub of my fingers against my chin. Not sure about the clean-shaven feel of it but it was okay. The stubble would be back by supper time. What lay ahead of me at the moment was breakfast and either one of the best or worst days of my life. Only one way to find out for sure…


	9. Chapter 9

**For Susan...:) I told you I'd get back to this. Are you ready? LOL**

**Chapter 9**

Nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs is how I felt leaving the bedroom. Arm me with nothing but a rock and pit me against a homicidal maniac with an AK-47 and I'd probably fare better. I knew how to fight for my life, but I had no idea how to fight for my love…

Oddly enough, I saw that the living room had been straightened up while I was off in the shower. I wondered vaguely if Vic had come across my watch…

What a stupid thing to be thinking about now! I was supposed to be thinking about making this right, not wondering where my watch had gone, but I was a creature of habit and after my shower, I always put my watch back on, adjusting it around my wrist on my way to grab a coffee.

What the hell, this morning was so far from my usual routine it was no wonder I couldn't find my watch! I wasn't on my way to grab a quick coffee and head out the door. I was on my way to the kitchen where the most beautiful woman in the world was making breakfast for me. Did I also mention she was the world's most volatile woman? Yeah, maybe best just to skip that part. If I thought too much about that, I would just head on out the door and keep going…

"_**Be a man, Walt**_!"

"And hello to you, too, Dad," I muttered.

Yeah, just what this morning called for; a little fatherly advice from beyond the grave. I was a _man_, just not the most articulate one when it came to 'feeling's and other matters of the heart. I'd been trying, though and Christ, if Vic wasn't worth the effort, then who was?

Not that she was all about hearts and flowers, either….but then again, did I really know that about her? No, I didn't. The subject had never come up and maybe it would have if I'd done all this the right way. All I knew right now was that she didn't want to hear me say I loved her or, at least, I strongly suspected it.

"Take that shower-courage and get your ass in gear, Walt," I told myself. "Find out once and for all." Sure, simplest thing in the world. Just say it and see how she reacts. I had the feeling I better have breakfast first and then bring up that particular subject or else I might just go hungry.

I took a deep breath, smoothed my hair down, straightened my shoulders and plastered what I hoped was a casual smile on my face before walking in to the kitchen. Vic was just placing a plate of toast on the table, which she'd set appealing for two and again, I was struck by how right this sight was, how strongly I felt about doing whatever it took to make this an everyday occurrence and not just an every now and then thing.

Couldn't deny that seeing Vic, still in my shirt, fixing me breakfast was worth fighting for, no matter how nervous I felt about making it happen…or finding out if there was any hope of having it happen.

_**"Nothin' worth having ever comes easy**_," and good old Dad sure was on a roll this morning, but I had the feeling he was right about this one.

"Smells wonderful in here, Vic," I greeted her, startling her.

For a moment, I thought she was going to bolt, but she turned her surprise in to a smile and appeared calm, just like that.

"Let's just hope it tastes the same way," she replied. "You don't have the best stocked pantry or fridge around these parts, Walt. You ready?" she asked.

"Yup…"

I held her chair out for her. I'd been raised that way, and once she was seated, I took my own place. I watched her carefully as we proceeded to eat. On the surface, she seemed okay. A little tired, maybe a little quiet. I could've just dismissed it all, but the vibe I was getting off her made me a little uneasy.

"So, we have the day off," I began as I dunked a piece of toast in to one of my perfectly done eggs. I was impressed. "Any plans?" I asked, making it sound casual.

"Oh, I don't know," she sighed. "I've got laundry up to my ass to do and I should probably think about cleaning up the rest of my place." She stole a piece of bacon from my plate, acting like Vic, but not seeming like Vic.

"What about you?" she asked.

"Lots to do," and were we really going to do THIS? Act like it was just another ho-hum day, like we were sharing breakfast at the Busy Bee instead of here, in the cabin?

"I thought maybe after last night, we could spend some time together," I threw out there, testing the waters.

"We could," she answered back suggestively. "We could always call Henry and get him to deliver more of that whipped cream," and while the thought delighted me in a primal way, I had a bad feeling as to where this was heading.

I set down my knife and fork, pushed my plate aside with half my breakfast still on it and reached for my coffee instead.

"Don't you like it?" Vic asked, indicating my plate with a nod while she sopped up what was left of her breakfast with her last piece of toast. My god, the woman could eat! Just where she put it all was beyond me….but no, don't get sidetracked, Walt.

"I liked it, a lot," I told her as I gazed at her over my mug. "I liked it so much, in fact, that I want more of it. I want it every single day for what's left of the rest of my life."

At first, Vic gave me a puzzled look, not understanding at all. I sat there, elbows on the table, hands cradling my mug as I rested it against my chin, leaning forward ever so slightly. I could feel the expression, not so much on my face, but in my eyes. It was my 'I'm done fucking around with you' look. I usually reserved it for punks who thought they were smarter than I was and I really didn't mean to give it to Vic, but I really was done fucking around!

I watched her get her defenses up. She'd seen this look plenty of times, but not directed at her. Usually, she was behind me, arms folded across her chest, smiling that deadly little smile of hers, directing it to whomever was in my line of sight and about to be taken down.

She honestly couldn't believe I was looking at her this way and now that I was, she was going to fight me. She pushed her chair back, but only to give herself room to lean across the table and get her pointed finger all up in my face.

"Walt, don't!" she ordered me.

"Don't what, Vic?" and I set my mug down and leaned back in my chair, one arm draped across the back of it, the other on the table.

"Don't you dare fucking say it!" she warned me.

She looked like she might just be ready to jump across the table and strangle me. Interesting. Just as I had picked up her vibe, she was picking up mine now. Unfortunately for her, I knew, clearly, what I wanted. What I needed, how it was going to go, or else it could go without me.

That sudden clarity had hit me as soon as I'd seen her in the kitchen. I wanted her with me in every way and every day. Every night. I would've added a 'forever' to that, but nothing lasted forever. I knew I loved her. I knew I had since almost the first time I saw her. I knew she was the one I'd been waiting for and I knew I was the same for her, although she just wouldn't see it.

Images of the past swirled around me, things I should have done and shouldn't have done. Things I should've said, but didn't. I pushed them all aside. I couldn't change what had happened, but I could change the way things were going before it was too late again.

I looked at her, saw the fear in her eyes, saw her pleading for me not to do it, but I had thought about it. And thought about it…and now, it was time to speak. I was afraid, too. Afraid that I'd lose her, but my life was getting shorter with every second that we sat there looking at each other and I felt it was worth the risk.

Real clarity only came along so often, and here was mine, in the midst of a hangover, not only from the booze, but from the most magnificent sex I'd ever had in my life. It was that moment of seeing her so at home here, looking so 'right' here, feeling in my heart that this was how it was supposed to be that gave me probably one of the most sober moments of my life.

Of course, how right we were together in our sex didn't hurt, either, but it wasn't just the sex I wanted from her, or for her. Long before I'd begun fantasizing about her, I'd been in love with her. I'd just been unable to do anything about it…

"I love you, Vic," and I made sure to say every word clearly. I wasn't nervous any more.

"Don't say that, Walt!" and that angry finger of hers was only inches from my nose. "Don't ruin what happened between us with those stupid words! "

"If I didn't say those stupid words, then everything that's happened between us means nothing," I shot back, grabbing her finger and getting it out of my face. She wriggled it free from my hand and sat back, furious.

"Everything, Walt, EVERYTHING? We were friends. You said you wanted to be my lover, so why can't you just be that and love me _that_ way?"

I leaned forward again, hands clasped together. I wasn't going to get angry.

"In the moment, I thought I could be your lover. I _wanted_ to be your lover and I certainly don't regret what we did, but I do regret not telling you what I was really feeling when I had the chance to."

"And just what chance was that, Walt? How many chances did you have to tell me the news?"

I knew what she was referring to, the times she was reminding me of, but back then – and that was exactly it. It was all 'back then' in that dark time. Even though I'd wanted to tell her then, I couldn't. I wouldn't. I had no right to love her 'back then'. This was the part I'd been afraid of. Waiting too long to get my chance, the right chance. I'd done what I could at the time, but obviously, it hadn't been enough.

"I can't change what happened, Vic. I can't go back and make it right, because it was never MY right to do so, but I – "

"That's right," she cut me off. "You can change this, though! You can take those words back. You can shut your stupid mouth and just take me back to your bed. Be my_ lover_. Be magnificent, like I knew you would be! Be that wild, fucking uninhibited man I always knew you were! Don't try to make this all neat and pretty! Don't put a shiny bow on it and call it something it's not! I wanted you, you wanted me and it was fucking fantastic! It was mind-blowing, wild, passionate, unforgettable, multi-orgasmic _sex_!"

"It certainly was," I told her, with a smile, after letting her rant die away. Couldn't deny it. Vic got up and came to me. She plunked herself down on my lap when I moved my arms to receive her. She put her arms around me and pressed her forehead to mine.

"Just let it be enough, Walt. Just be thankful and be free", she pleaded softly. "You were made for this, you were made to be a sensual man in every sense of the word. It's like I told you last night. It's in your eyes, your body language, the way you feel and notice everything. Hell, it's even in your voice; low and gravelly, soft and dangerous" and while she ran down my attributes, her hand ran down my chest and up again. Up the side of my face and through my hair.

My hands followed her lead, over her body, through her golden hair, over the contours of her face and neck. I couldn't deny I wanted her. I'd never deny it ever again. It was most definitely too late for that. She was kissing my neck, her lips trailing that unquenchable fire and I felt myself weaken. I groaned and wrapped my arms around her, ready to get up and do what she wanted. Ready to take her to my bed, or better yet, take her right here on the table.

Jesus, she got to me!

She was undoing the buttons on my shirt, her hands slipping inside to caress my chest. I couldn't get my own hands under her shirt; she was sitting on it. Instead, they went to the buttons just as her lips found mine. So sweet, so soft and full. So insistent and demanding…

I had to stop this! I couldn't lose myself in her again, no matter how badly I wanted to and oh, God, how I wanted to! How easy it would be to just do as Vic wanted me to. To just be her lover and love her like that, but then what? Where did we go from there? Was I being a complete fool by wanting more? That wasn't a guarantee any more than simply being her lover was, especially judging by Vic's reaction to my declaration. Oh, I knew it was too little too late, but there was hope, wasn't there? Hope for something more, something deeper, something that might just last my lifetime anyway. I had to try, even if it really was too late.

I backed off a bit, my lips still against hers when I said,

"I'm not Ed Gorski and this cabin isn't room thirty-two, Vic," and just saying the words made me feel sick with jealousy. Those words didn't just affect me. Vic pushed back and then hauled off and slapped my face, hard! It sounded like a pistol shot in the early morning silence…and it hurt, like hell.

"How dare you?" she hissed. "You fucking bastard!"

I grabbed her wrist none too gently when it looked like she was going to hit me again. One shot; that was fair, I deserved it. But two? Wasn't going to happen. To make sure, I grabbed her other hand and held it.

She was ferocious, trying to free her wrists, glaring at me, breathing heavy, her teeth gritted and her eyes blazing.

"You tell me, Vic, how it's all gonna play out! Tell me how this 'friends with benefits' shit goes. Do we go to work tomorrow and sneak off to the Reading Room when the urge hits us? Do we lock my office door and go at it like rabbits, pretending that Branch and Ferg and Ruby don't know what we're up to? Do we split the week between our places? Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at your place, the rest of the week here at the cabin? Tell me, Vic, because I'm no expert on the workings of casual sex."

"And I am? Is that what you're saying?" She managed to wrench her wrists free and jumped off my lap. She began to pace back and forth, hands on hips. Then she stopped. She pointed that finger in my face again, wild with anger.

" I can't fucking believe you! I can't believe you'd dare to bring up Ed, to go there when you know what that was like for me! I told you about it and now you throw it in my face_? __**You Goddamned, fucking **__**bastard**__!"_

I jumped to my feet and met her finger with one of my own.

"You are such a foul-mouthed little bitch", I told her. "Acting all outraged with me because I dare to tell you that I'm not going to be just some game for you! I tell you I don't do the 'casual sex' thing and you deny that you do!"

Those words just flew out of me. Not with the volume Vic had just yelled at me with, but certainly with force.

I couldn't believe how dispassionately I could just stand there, looking at her, but then again, sometimes I was just a cold-hearted bastard. Being that way seemed to rile people up enough to make them tell me the truth. And I wanted the truth out of Vic.

That didn't mean that I didn't feel something inside. Something that tasted like regret and felt like a knife in my guts, and I wasn't speaking metaphorically because I knew what that felt like. I had the scar to prove it, just like I had the scars on my back, deep and long and there forever.

There'd been moments last night when Vic had touched them gently. Asked me if they hurt still and then she'd kissed them tenderly and I know I'd seen something more than sympathy or empathy in her eyes.

She couldn't say it, but she loved me. She couldn't say it, but she had to, if she wanted me. She couldn't say it, but I wished she would.

I think I understood a little of her struggle, but I wanted to understand it all. With Vic, that was definitely hoping for too much; she buried her secrets so much deeper than I buried mine, and I hoped that by throwing some of them out there, she'd cave and let me in, the way I'd finally caved and let her in.

I know I was playing dirty, but the stakes were high. I'd take her broken, but I wouldn't take her in denial. And yes, there was the chance that I was wrong about all of it, but my gut was telling me I wasn't, just like it had in the truck before all this had started. I ended up ignoring it then, but I wouldn't ignore it now. If I had said it when I should have, we'd be past all this. No, I had to go 'all in' or just fold. I had the better 'poker face' anyway.

"_**You fucking jerk**_! You didn't have to bring my past in to this! You say you don't want to play games, but at least last night you were honest when you said you wanted me! Ever since I met you, it's been nothing but a fucking game with you, Walt! Pull me in, push me away! Take me in, shut me out!"

I couldn't deny there was some truth to what she'd just said and even if I had wanted to deny it, I couldn't. She never gave me the chance.

"What about Lizzie?" she threw back at me. "Wasn't that a bit of 'casual sex' on your part? Or did you tell her you loved her after you fucked her brains out? Oh, excuse me, after you' made love' to her? No, don't even answer that 'cause you'd just lie to me anyway, just like you did that next morning. I asked you where you'd been when you sauntered in to the damn office after noon and you told me you'd been home! I'd just seen Cady, she'd just been here, looking for you, but you were nowhere to be found!"

She was back in my face again, finger pointing.

"You were with Lizzie, at her place and you fucking lied to me about it, Walt! _**You lied right to my face**_, _**you prick**_!"

I got up and she backed away. Couldn't blame her. I felt myself looming over her.

"It was none of your business, Vic" and I said it quietly, dangerously quiet. She had her hands back on her hips, glaring up at me, but at a safe distance.

"I remember a time when you thought it was funny, me and Lizzie. I remember you encouraging me to see her, like you didn't give a damn one way or the other" and now I had a hand on my hip, the other pointing a finger at her for a change.

"And I remember finding her here that morning Ferg and I brought your damn truck back for you! Are you going to lie to me again and tell me nothing happened between you two?" she threw back at me.

"Are you going to tell me why the thought of me and Lizzie together makes you so mad?"

"_**It doesn't**_!" and she actually stomped her foot, her hands curled up in fists. Say what you like with your mouth, Vic. Your body says otherwise. She had a jealous streak, too. Maybe we were going to get somewhere with this. Fighting with Vic wasn't new to me, but fighting over something so personal was definitely treading on fresh territory.

"_**I don't give a fuck if you fucked her from here to Texas**_!" but I wasn't buying it. I saw the glint of tears in her eyes although I had to give her credit for holding them back.

"_**It's just**_…It's just that you lied to me, Walt…" and that last part, said so softly and with so much pain made me want to go to her, take her in my arms, tell her we'd get over this. When I went to make a move towards her, though, she held up her hands and backed away.

"I can't do this, Walt. I can't fucking do this with you."

Funny, she was backed up against the same counter I'd been backed up against when she'd done that show with the champagne bottle. She was even gripping the counter behind her with both hands, the way I'd been gripping it and I heard the wood crack again, but she didn't seem to notice at all.

I backed up a bit myself and did some of my own pacing, one hand on my hip, the other against my chin, stroking and kneading. Before I opened my mouth, I smoothed back my hair.

"The truth is, nothing did happen between us that night, I swear to you. After the party, the night before the election, I stayed behind to help her clean up. She came on to me, the way she did almost every time I ran in to her. She even conspired with Ruby to have me called out on a supposed B&amp;E at her place one time and when I showed up, she had candles burning everywhere, beer cooling on ice…and then she came down the stairs wearing some kind of lingerie…"

"I don't want to hear this, Walt!"

"That's too bad, Vic, 'cause you're going to. The truth, finally. I didn't cave that night and I didn't cave when she stayed over here, but after that party…She kissed me. I kissed her back. I was lonely. She felt good, but even then, Vic, I backed off and I left. Only trouble was, when I'd almost made it to the truck I thought, what the hell? I had nobody. Nobody was waiting at home for me. She was willing and eager…and you, you'd looked so good in that dress. I noticed, but you were home with Sean, as it should've been, but I was alone and thinking about you."

"Stop it, Walt," but I ignored her.

"So, I went back inside, threw my hat and coat across the room. She was sitting on the table, in the middle of all the clutter and I went to her, caught her up in my arms and she was so damn willing. I took her right there on the table and I took her again the next morning. I never told her I loved her because it wasn't about love. It was about sex and being lonely and feeling old and useless. I kept thinking about Branch winning the election and where would that leave me? And I just kept thinking about you…"

"Please, I don't want to hear this…"

"Well, I think you should."

More pacing, more chin and lip rubbing. More fingers through my hair. I couldn't stop now. I had to get it out. No one else knew this next part, except me and Lizzie.

"And then I show up to vote and it's back to the office to find out that Cady had been run down."

God, just saying that hurt. Vic had been the one to find her lying in the ditch on the side of the road. The memory hurt her too. I saw it in her eyes.

"That's enough, Walt."

But again, I ignored her. No more missed chances.

"When she got out of surgery, I was sitting there with her, dazed, stunned, feeling guilty for being with Lizzie while she was lying in that ditch. And then you came in. You sat beside me and rubbed my back. You did what you had to do and filled me in on what was going on with trying to find the little shit that did that to my daughter. You brought me something I could understand and deal with…and you cried, Vic. You cried for my daughter and you cried for me…and I'll never forget that."

Shit, that last part made me choke up a little. I turned away. I heard Vic take a step towards me. I held out a hand. My turn to keep her at arm's length. I did turn back to look at her, though. When speaking the truth, you had to be man enough to look a person in the eye.

"After I arrested Billy," and I neglected mentioning beating the shit out of him first, "I went back to the hospital to be with Cady, to let Ruby go home. I walked in to the room and Lizzie was there. She'd taken it upon herself to tell Ruby to go home, that she'd stay with Cady….and Vic, when I saw her there, I lost it! She had no right to be there. All her manipulations and her ingratiating just hit me. Did you know she ran in to Cady before the election? She followed her and told her that we were seeing each other, when that wasn't even true. She deliberately went after my daughter to what? Get to me? Force me in to a relationship with her? Whatever it was, when I saw her in Cady's room, I snapped. I told her that she didn't' belong there and that I didn't belong with her and she ran out the damn door and that is honestly the last time I ever saw her."

Damn, sometimes the truth sure did require a lot of words. Talking that much at once almost made me light-headed.

"I..I didn't know, Walt…"

"Because I never told you about it. There's other things I never told you about, either, Vic."

"Please, Walt…no more. Don't say it again!"

"Why are you so afraid to hear me say it?" It was a serious question.

"I'm not!" and who was lying now? "Why do you feel you have to say it? Are you too afraid to admit that you _really_ like sex?" and sympathetic Vic was gone, but the Terror was back. She was going to fight me on this no matter what.

"With you? What's not to like? In fact, I _love _sex with you!"

It was true and also a good way to get that word out there. If she wanted a fight, I'd give her one. I felt it was worth fighting for.

"I could spend the rest of my life having sex with you," I threw in just for good measure.

Yeah, again, sometimes I really was a bastard. Saying that and picturing it got things stirring down below. Damnit, I needed to distract myself. I went to check on the fire. Vic followed me. Not surprising; the fight wasn't over until she said it was, at least, those were _her_ rules.

I hunkered down in front of the hearth to poke at the fire and add another log. While I was down there, I looked around the living room. She really had done a nice job cleaning up the place and I was going to remember to thank her for that. Trouble was, the ways of thanking her that sprang to mind involved being horizontal for the most part, which meant giving in to her, which meant that sex really was all that mattered, but it wasn't!

I couldn't feel this way about her over something as simple as sex. The sex wouldn't have been so earth-shattering if there wasn't something more to it. For a moment, I got lost in the image and the feel of our fingers laced so tightly together that first time we came with each other. Lucky for me, like a kid with A.D.D. I noticed something just under the couch; something shiny and I came back from Paradise to discover my watch. I went over there, reaching for it.

"That's my fucking point, Walt," Vic sounded smug. "You love the sex. It's not about loving me. It's about loving what went on between us and I can live with that. You can, too, I know it!"

As I fished out my watch, I also found two other interesting items. One of them was surely the thud I remember hearing when Henry's basket had hit the floor. A bottle of massage oil or so the label said. The other item was something I vaguely remembered seeing in the basket before we left the bar.

Tucked down underneath the other goodies. I'd just caught a glimpse of red and hadn't cared to investigate it any further. Once the basket got to the cabin, its contents were forgotten as far as I was concerned, until later and then it all became champagne, strawberries and whipped cream. I felt cold in the pit of my stomach.

"Can you live with _this_?" and I held up the strip of condoms for her inspection.

She had the good grace to at least look uncomfortable and then she turned away. I stood up, feeling floored while more than six feet away from it.

"I'm a fucking idiot" and she turned back. "Yeah, I know, I said the eff word, but Jesus, Vic, I never thought about it. _We_ never thought about it!"

I know it only took once, but how many damn times had I - ? I couldn't even comprehend the chance that Vic could be pregnant. While I was looking at her in a daze, cells could be dividing and dividing and dividing again.

No, no, no, the last thing I wanted to be again was a father. I hadn't been so hot at it the one and only time around and aside from all that, _I was fifty-four years old_! I guess in the past thirty-two years I'd grown lax about such things. Martha never did get pregnant again after Cady and Lizzie had been beyond the age of getting pregnant, but Vic…

Slow down, Walt. Slow down.

Maybe it was my fault that Martha and I never had any other kids…but I didn't KNOW that, not for a certainty and it hadn't been all that cut and dried between Martha and I anyway. There were other reasons we'd never had more kids.

"Any chance, Vic, honestly?"

"Don't worry about it" she muttered and looked down at the ground.

Uh-uh. No avoiding this. I moved closer and tilted her chin up to me with a strong hand.

"Could you be pregnant, Vic? Tell me!"

"I said don't worry about it" and she pushed my hand roughly aside. "There's no way I can be pregnant, trust me!" and what did that mean?

It had been a year since her divorce from Sean. I mean, with no man in her life – or was there? Had there been since Sean? Jealousy again and if I didn't know before, I knew now exactly how she felt about Lizzie and me.

"Is there- are you seeing someone?" and I really didn't want to know, but I had to ask.

"There's nobody, Walt. Hasn't been until you."

"And so what, you just stayed on the pill after Sean?"

"Things have changed, Walt. There's all kind of birth control now. I had a…a shot just before Sean and I broke up. Guaranteed two years baby-free, so don't freak out about it!"

She looked right at me when she said it, but something felt off. Not so much that she was lying to me but more like she wasn't telling me the whole truth. It was that same kind of feeling I'd had when I'd first met her and asked her about having kids in her interview.

"I suppose that this might just be a good time to let you know I'm not in to having more babies, Vic. My one shot at fatherhood was a disaster and it's a miracle Cady even speaks to me now. I don't want to go through that again."

Just saying that made me feel like I was blowing any chance we had of working this out. Vic was still young enough for babies and if she wanted them, I'd just signed the death warrant on ever getting anywhere with her.

I expected some kind of reaction, some kind of emotion, even if it was only in her eyes, but all I saw in Vic's eyes was a sort of relief and then it was gone, just like that. Déjà vu again.

"Seriously, don't worry about it!"

"Okay, if you say so I'll trust you and won't worry, for now" but I did feel uneasy. Something didn't feel quite right.

"I wouldn't even know how to get one of these damn things on anyway," I confessed, staring at the condoms that dangled from my fingers and that was the truth.

"If you'd just chill out, I could show you. It might be fun," and here she came again, ready to change my mind.

"If you just say you love me, I'll do anything you want. Right now…"

Eyebrows drawn together, lips pursed. Hands back on hips. Golden eyes gone dark.

"You're seriously withholding sex until I say it?"

"I'm seriously not going to just play around with you, Vic, as god-awful tempting as that is," and I could glower just as well as she could, if not better. I'd had way more practise at it.

"You already had the love of your life, Walt. I can't compete with that. From what I heard, Martha was an angel and from what I saw, it almost killed you when she…when she died. You don't need another love, you just need another lover and I can do that. I can be that to you. We're good together that way…"

As far as I was concerned, we were good together in ALL ways…I found it interesting, though, that Vic didn't bring up the way I'd gone after Nighthorse when I'd thought he was the one responsible for Martha's death. She just reiterated the same sad story that everyone in town knew. Vic knew better, but why wasn't she throwing _that_ in my face?

So, c'mon, tell her Walt. You're all for truth and honesty all of a sudden. Tell her all about life with Martha, how it started and why it really tore you up when it ended. I wanted to back then and I wanted to now…but I couldn't. That was a story I couldn't share with Vic unless she was willing to share her everything with me. A story that involved Cady and I had to protect her. I wasn't about to share that in exchange for sex if that was all Vic was ever going to give me.

"You've got nothing to say about _that_?" Vic asked, sounding triumphant, as though she'd finally made her undeniable point in our 'love' vs 'sex' battle.

What could I say? I headed back to the kitchen, ignoring her. She followed.

"You are so gutless, Walt, so afraid of the way I make you feel. So scared to admit you loved _it_, not me" and again, she was right, about some of it, but I wasn't about to acknowledge any of it.

"And you're terrified at the thought of me loving you, really loving you," I threw back at her. "You can't stand it, can you? I think what you're really afraid of is the fact that you love me, too. Love implies commitment and trusting and giving everything of yourself to someone else….and I don't think you've EVER done that, not even with Sean."

I leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over my chest. Couldn't help realizing that I was standing in the same spot I'd stood in last night, but this time around, there wasn't going to be any champagne strip-tease going on.

"You don't know shit about me, Walt!" but she was wrong. Being this angry with her had cleared my head and I was watching her reactions like a hawk watches its prey.

"You love me, as much as I love you and it's got nothing to with the sex," and my voice had softened a little. I was right.

"Think what you want, Walt…but while you're at it, say to me that you want me and that it's got _nothing_ to do with love. It's ALL about the sex! You think you know me? I see those wheels spinning in your head, but I've been watching you all these years, Walt and if you think I can't see that fucking fire that burns inside you, then you're wrong! You smolder like a slagheap. You burn with a hunger for the flesh, you fuck like a man who just can't get enough and I fucked you back the same way because I can't get enough of you. I'm just not afraid to admit it, but if you want me to call that love and dress it up all pretty, yeah, maybe I could do that….but it doesn't change what it really is. _**We wanted each other**_! We fucked each other's brains out and can you just admit that and drop all this other shit?"

"I love you, Vic," I said again, deliberately ignoring her tirade. Sure always some truth in what she'd said, but I didn't believe that I was that man she was describing.

"I love you….and can't you just admit that you deserve that? Can't you admit that this time around, the sex isn't the most important thing? If you don't love me back, then the rest of it is pointless as far as I'm concerned. I can't just fu –"

"You can't even say the word, Walt! Four little letters. F.U.C.K. Fuck! No big fuckin' deal!"

"I can't just go on having nothing but sex with you, Vic, as magnificent as it was" ignoring her outburst once more.

"I can't do it. I won't do it. You deserve better than that. You're worth more than that to me, but if you honestly don't love me back, then it's over. It's my fault for starting this all off, for not telling you how I felt when I meant to last night and that's probably going to end up being one of the greatest mistakes of my life, but all you have to do is tell me you love me, Vic, and we can make this work."

"That's it? That's all I have to do? Three little words and there's hope for us?" I almost thought she was going to give in.

Instead, she stormed in to the living room and came back seconds later, her jeans on. She stuck her bare feet in to her boots and grabbed her coat from the hook beside the door.

"Vic, let's talk about this" I tried, even going so far as to reach for her. She slapped my hands away.

Ignoring me as I'd ignored her, she grabbed her gun, her cuffs and her badge and shoved them all in her coat pocket. Her truck keys were next to me, on the counter. I picked them up and wrapped my hand around them.

"You can't run away from this, Vic," I warned her. "All you have to do is say you love me and we can take it from there."

"And all you have to do is say you want to fuck me and we'll be in that bed of yours! We could be with each other every night, Walt. Isn't that worth something?" and there was a note of pleading in her voice. Just the thought of being with Vic every night made me shudder with desire.

"There was a time when I wanted to simply fuck you, Vic. In the beginning. I wanted you that way. Sometimes when you'd swear at me, sass me back, put your hands on your hips, jut your chest out and defy me, I wanted to just rip your clothes off and yeah, fuck you. When I grabbed you off Mathias that time, had my hands on you, I wanted you. At the election party, it was you I wanted to fuck, not Lizzie. I could go on and on if you want me to, if it thrills you to hear me say that word…but I want more than that from you now, Vic."

I wasn't backing down. I was right. She just couldn't see or imagine that she was worth more to me. She was quiet for a moment. Had I rendered her speechless with the eff word? No such luck.

"And I want what's real, Walt, not some fairy tale. Why can't you just let it be enough?" She sounded close to tears.

"I just can't, Vic. I don't want to play around with you."

"Looks like we've hit a stalemate then," was all she said after another long pause, our eyes locked.

"Guess so," I replied as I held her truck keys out to her. There was the smallest moment of hesitation, the tiniest window of opportunity for both of us to just let it go and carry on, but neither one of us made the move the other was waiting for.

She snatched the keys from my hand and yanked open the door.

"You're really going to just let me walk out of here?" she asked.

"Yup, I guess I am," and I was clenching that same beat-up counter ledge we both seemed to favour with both hands. I couldn't back down from the stand I'd taken.

"Fuck you, Walt" she growled.

"Oh, yeah, that's right, I did! You're not getting your shirt back, either! Happy fuckin' New Year, asshole!" and then she was gone, slamming the door so hard behind her that the bamboo curtain fell off and landed with another bang on the floor.

I watched her stomp off to her truck, struggling through the snow. She jumped inside and started it up. For a moment, I thought it wasn't going to catch, but it did. I couldn't believe that I just stood there, hands on my hips, watching her jump back out and attempt to clear the windshield with her coat sleeve. She could barely reach up there.

And still, I continued to stand there, watching her tear away from the cabin. She probably couldn't even see where she was going. I watched the force of the wind she was causing clear the snow from the truck. I watched until I lost sight of her in the storm she was creating and the new one that was just starting. Snow, falling softly on what had suddenly become a very silent morning.

Empty.

That's how I felt.

Stupid.

That's what I was for letting her go.

Determined not to give in and go after her.

That's the way it had to be, because I loved her and I couldn't accept anything less from her or for her and she couldn't accept or face the fact that she loved me, too. Without that, there was nothing else, for either of us, no matter what she said to the contrary.

"You stupid, dumb fuck," I muttered to myself, but I was hearing the words in Vic's voice and I had no doubt that she was actually saying those exact words as she sped off to God knows where.

The sad thing was, she was probably right and even sadder than that was that I believed _myself_ to be right in the stand I'd taken with her. I couldn't find her truth for her. She was going to have to do that on her own, or run away. All I could do was wait to see how she played it out. It all boiled down to 'love me or leave me', at my insistence. Apparently, leaving me was the easier thing for her to do.

"Fuck!"

I yelled the word, tore that ledge off the kitchen counter, grabbed the kitchen table and threw it over. Dishes, food and coffee flew everywhere. I kicked a chair across the room for good measure but none of it made me feel even the slightest bit better. It just left me breathing hard and thinking about kicking my own ass. Still, I wasn't going to go after her. I knew what I could live with and what I couldn't, or so I thought.

So much for being Durant's new, hot couple. We hadn't even lasted one whole day…

Fuck!


	10. Chapter 10

**So, here we go back to Walt. This New Year morning isn't going so well for him, either and despite his best efforts, he's doing something he just can't seem not to do...thinkin. MAKE SURE YOU CHECK OUT HNYVIC TO SEE WHAT'S GOING THROUGH HER HEAD!**

**I owe a HUGE thank you to the wonderful, talented and most gracious KIMBALL MEYER for giving me his enthusiastic permission to use a few of his songs in my stories. This man is a poet who puts his incredible words to some of the best music it's ever been my pleasure to listen to.**

** He sings with a voice as clear and strong as a prairie wind, with such depth and emotion that it sweeps right through you just like that same wind. I included all the lyrics to his song 'Thinkin' and only the first stanza from his song 'Stay'. It took me years to be able to listen to that one in its entirety.**

** I've you've ever loved someone deeply and then lost them, I dare you to listen to that song without breaking down. I know I couldn't...but time does heal...and now, I can listen to it and appreciate it for the beautiful song it truly is.**

** So, I urge all of you to check out Kimball Meyer on iTunes and give a listen to his album, 'A View From The Moon'. That's where you'll find these two songs but where they come from? Well, they come from the heart of a man who isn't afraid to let it all out and Kim? I thank you so very much for filling my life with songs that have spoken to me and touched me profoundly through this journey I call my life:) xox...and by the way, just gotta say Canadian musicians ROCK. Hope and Ruin is by The Trews and ya, they're Canadian, too:)**

**Enough flag-waving for the day. On with the story...:)**

**Chapter 10**

Hope and Ruin…

It was the name of some song Cady liked to listen to, but it also perfectly described the way this morning had gone.

Hope and ruin…

Didn't have much left of the one but more than enough of the other. I'd worked up the courage, taken the chance…and Vic had taken a hike. Didn't see that one coming at all. I really thought she'd calm down, come clean if I made my stand…

…but maybe I should've known better. I'd screwed up again where she was concerned. I didn't know why it was so hard for her to just admit her feelings; I only knew it was. After all, we weren't so different in our ways, but maybe we were miles apart in our wants.

I'd been dumb enough to imagine her throwing herself in my arms, gushing to me about all the ways she loved me after the initial resistence. Should've known there was something wrong with that scenario. Should've pictured Vic saying something more along the lines of 'of course I love you, you fuckin' dummy', and then maybe it might've turned out that way. Vic, gushing?

"You are a dumb fuck," I told myself as I saddled up Horse. He looked at me, seeming to be in total agreement with my statement. Despite his opinion of me, I decided the mess in the kitchen could wait. Who the hell was going to see it anyway? Horse needed to get out and so did I. It was cold, it was stormy…just like I felt. Might as well go lose myself in it.

If Vic called, she'd leave a message…or not. I'd almost thought about waiting to see if she would. Almost went to call her myself, but no. I really was done screwing around. I gave her a choice and she made hers. I truly hadn't expected it and now, it was time to see if I could live with mine.

I headed out, across the plains, in to the woods, to figure out if there were any alternatives to be pondered regarding the situation with Vic. All I knew for sure was that I'd made on hell of a mess, not only in my kitchen, but in the way things stood between her and me. Yeah, making a mess of things seemed to come just a little too easy for me. I didn't like it, but that's what happened when I got angry and so I tried very hard not to. That damn fire inside me! I'd been right to think twice about letting it out, but then again, I'd been half-cut. Okay, three-quarters cut and Vic? Oh, Vic had been so willing, so eager and more than capable of taking that fire and giving it right back to me!

Goddamn that woman!

She'd been everything I'd ever dreamt of, everything I'd never dreamt of and then some. Her champagne strip-tease would stay with me for the rest of my life and I really couldn't believe how truly unashamed I actually was by my powerlessness to give in to what she'd done to me. I was of half a mind that making me cum like that had honestly turned her on – and what a thrill that had been and unfortunately, still was! Getting a hard-on while straddling a horse wasn't exactly comfortable, but Jesus, there it was and how the hell was I supposed to think about Vic without getting one, no matter where or when?

I'd drowned myself in the pleasure of her body. I'd dived right in and explored every exquisite inch of her. I'd tasted, taunted and teased every part of her and oh, she'd responding in kind and what kind of 'kind' had that been?

Delicious. Delightful. Defenseless and so undeniable…

How the hell was I supposed to stay strong and not give in to her the moment I saw her again? – and I would. The work-day morning was just over the horizon and there we'd be, both of us no doubt warily circling each other. Both of us knowing what the other was capable of, made of. How she felt in my arms. How I felt inside of her, how she felt around me. Tight and hot. Wet and eager…

How the hell was I supposed to look at her and casually say 'morning, Vic' like it was just another day? Fantasizing about her was one thing, but knowing her the way I did now was going to be the death of me. Wanting her – God, I was lost before I'd even walked in that office door!

"Get a grip, Walt," I told myself.

Yeah, should've pondered all this just a little more, but honestly, I hadn't expected it to go this way. Had dreaded that it might, but never really thought it would. The ramifications of a blissful ending would have been hard enough to deal with. I knew that as happy as the town folk had appeared to be last night, once everyone sobered up, there'd be questions, raised eyebrows, whispers behind my back and talk of me being old enough to be Vic's father. Together, we could have weathered that. Apart, like this? I couldn't help but feel we were doomed…

I didn't want it to be over. I didn't want to have to go back to dancing around each other. This time, it would be even worse than it had been. We'd partaken of each other. We'd crossed that invisible line, penetrated that invisible barrier and how did we go back from that?

We didn't. We couldn't.

If loving her cost me my job, then so what? Love her, I did. The good folks of Durant could kiss my ass as far as I was concerned. What worried me was Vic. Her refusal to love me back. My own worry that maybe I'd grossly misread the signs and she really didn't love me at all, at least, not the way I wanted her to.

If what Vic had told me was the truth, her truth, then how was I supposed to stop loving her? I could go back to hiding it, the way I had been all this time, but how did I ever get past wanting her? There was no way I could hide that, even now. Could we honestly just become – what would she call it? – 'fuck buddies' - to each other and not be bothered by the ramifications of that? Sneaking around, making sure no one found out about us; it had its charms, but it also smacked too much of what she'd had with Gorski and there was no way in hell I was going to become to her what he'd been!

"Oh, shit!"

Did I honestly love her or did I only want a legitimate, possibly understandable reason to be with her? One I could defend to everyone around me, one I could quit my job over and still hang on to some dignity? A reason that would make being with her something to hang on to while I hung around the cabin, unemployed and possibly outcast for going where everyone thought I shouldn't be going in the first place?

Did I give an honest damn what the town thought of me?

Too many questions and decidedly few ready answers.

Me and my unquiet mind. Me and my big mouth. Me and my damn prick that just couldn't seem to stop thinking about Vic and how she'd looked, naked before me, beneath me, on top of me… How she'd felt, around me, over me, under me, next to me. How I slid right in to her, again and again and never seemed to be able to get enough of her!

Was it really all about the sex? Had I been alone so long that I couldn't tell the difference between that and love? Did I only want it to be love to somehow make it alright, the way Vic had said I did?

"Oh, shit…."

It was way too early to be thinking about all this and I was way too hungover to even try…and still, I persisted in doing so! Horse's easy gait and my own tiredness didn't help any. Both of them lulled me, set my mind to roaming, gave me plenty of time to go over and over again what had happened this morning. Time to fix that. I couldn't readily fix what had happened between Vic and I, but it was more than easy enough to convince Horse to break in to a gallop and that's just what I did, both of us racing headlong in to the storm. I was pretty confident there was a metaphor there, but done with thinking past this moment, at least, for now…

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Spending time in the mountains brought me some peace. Fixing the pump in the barn kept my mind on the mission at hand and off other things, those things being Vic and where we went from here. Entering the cabin after the outside chores were done and Horse was brushed and pampered threatened to bring back all my swirling thoughts.

I surveyed the mess. Thought about leaving again, maybe going to see Henry, but he'd ask question. Wonder why I was visiting him when I should have been snuggled in with Vic on this snowy day. I didn't need any of that right now. I had no answers for him, none that he wouldn't shoot down, anyway.

Talking to Henry was more than I could take right now, so I turned my mind to cleaning up the mess I'd made or, to be more precise, cleaning up the kitchen. It was going to take a lot more than soap and water to clean up the other mess.

Couldn't think about that. Couldn't quite give up on the thought that I was right and Vic was wrong. Wasn't ready to believe this was all about sex and nothing more and besides, there was hardly anything the least bit stimulating about cleaning up congealed eggs from a wooden floor.

As long as I kept my eyes away from that damaged counter, kept my thoughts away from what had caused the damage in the first place, I'd be okay. I'd have to fix it at some point, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it just yet.

Maybe what I needed was some music. The radio would be useless today, I knew that. That left me with no choice but to try out the new cd player Cady had bought me for Christmas. Besides, the fire needed stoking and both things resided in the living room.

She'd laughingly insisted that I had to get at least a toe in to the twenty-first century. There'd been talk of 'ipods' and other mysterious things, but taking pity on me, she'd gotten me a cd player. New to me, but outdated as far as someone her age was concerned.

She'd disdainfully pointed out that I didn't own a computer so an 'i-pod' would be no use to me anyway. I believe Vic wore one of those things in some kind of holder that went around her arm when she was out running, but that's about as far as my acquaintance with such a thing went – and that was as far as I was going to think about Vic at the moment.

The cd player was new-fangled enough for me! Easy enough to push 'play' on the thing and let it do its job. Lucky for me, Cady had put a cd in it, urging me to listen to it, but I just hadn't found the time to get around to doing that.

This morning, well…there was nothing but time. I turned the volume up, hoping the music would drown out my thoughts, and got down to the business of cleaning breakfast off the floor and the walls.

Some guy started singing about the 'universe inside'. He had a good voice, clear and strong, and the music was upbeat for the most part, so I just went with it. It became background noise while I went about restoring some kind of order to my kitchen. I was never going to win an honourable mention in Better Homes and Gardens, but at least I'd be able to walk around without sticking to the floor or slipping. One small fit of anger and here I was, doing damage control.

Good thing I wasn't prone to going off at the drop of a hat. It took a lot of frustration to set me off and whether or not I'd ever be completely able to get over that remained to be seen, but the likelihood of it happening any time soon seemed doubtful. Patterns, always repeated. The fabric of our individual lives?

Everything was about as back to normal as it was ever going to get, except for the counter, which I was doing my best not to think about and I was just setting the table upright, praying I hadn't busted a leg when I'd sent it flying.

That's when the words of a song got through to me. Maybe because I'd been relieved to find the table in one solid piece, the music had become more than just background noise to me. Maybe because I'd deliberately held my thoughts in check while I worked, I was ready to _hear_ now that the work was done. Whatever the reason, I heard and what I heard made me think this guy doing the singing knew just what he was talking about. Maybe it was simply because the title of the song seemed to be Thinkin' and that was something I knew an awful lot about.

The song was still playing, but I wanted to hear it from the beginning. I eventually found the 'repeat' button and so it started all over again…

Good intro, nice rhythm, something you could tap your foot too. Not quite a slow dance, but a quiet dance with someone you just couldn't help but take in your arms. Made me think…about Vic.

"_**Thinkin bout you, I'm thinkin bout you**_

_**Thinkin there's nothing more that I can think to do.**_

_**I've been thinkin bout completion, thinkin maybe it's the season**_

_**And I'm wonderin are you thinkin of that too?**_

_**.**_

_**Thinkin about me, I'm thinkin bout me.**_

_**Thinkin bout yesterday when I thought I was free**_

_**Thinkin bout the roads we walked together in the sun and stormy weather**_

_**Thinkin it's all here forever, let it be**_

_**.**_

_**Thinkin bout the sunrise, thinkin bout the story in your eyes**_

_**Thinkin bout night skies and nothing ever dies**_

_**Thinkin bout movin, thinkin bout things that stay so still**_

_**Thinkin bout loving you - don't you know I always will?**_

_**.**_

_**I'm thinkin bout change, I'm thinkin bout change**_

_**Thinkin bout anything that I can think to name**_

_**Thinkin bout all that I've forgotten. I'm still Adam in the garden**_

_**Walking naked in this morning's holy rain**_

_**.**_

_**Thinkin bout the sunrise, thinkin bout the story in your eyes,**_

_**Thinkin bout night skies and nothing ever dies**_

_**Thinkin bout strangers, thinkin bout those forever dear**_

_**Thinkin bout all those scary dreams. I know there's nothing left to fear.**_

_**.**_

_**I'm thinkin bout time, just thinkin bout time**_

_**Thinkin bout distances and reasoning and rhyme**_

_**Thinkin bout all of this commotion, just sand castles by the ocean, **_

_**Ever melting in emotions so sublime.**_

_**.**_

_**Thinkin bout all of this commotion, just sand castles by the ocean**_

_**Ever melting in emotions so sublime…"**_

It all faded away and became another song. This one, mostly piano. Definitely a slow dance number.

"_**Stay…**_

_**For the night is young and aren't we both of us**_

_**Lost and longing for**_

_**That convincing touch to make us think of**_

_**Something more**_

_**That only the solitude of the dawn**_

_**With hours ahead of us, waiting for no one…"**_

Oh, I couldn't take that! If that first song made me think about Vic, this next one screamed out her name and I just couldn't take it! I stabbed at the 'stop' button. I stood there, my heart pounding. I stood there, thinkin'…

…about Vic. About me. About completion and thinking we could have that. Thinking about the things I'd said to her this very morning and if maybe, just maybe I'd gone too far. Thinking about the story in _her_ eyes, seeing only what I'd wanted to see and not necessarily what she was trying to tell me. Thinking that maybe all this commotion could become nothing but sand castles by the ocean, but which one of us was going to cause the wave that would sweep it all away? What I wouldn't give to turn all this in to 'emotions, so sublime'!

I snatched up the cordless phone and dialed Vic's number. Didn't know exactly what I was going to say, but I had to try saying something.

It rang and rang. Went to voice mail. I heard the beep. I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. Not one word. She had call display. She knew it was me. She wasn't picking up and I decided to respect that. She didn't want to talk to me and in matters of the heart, I was way too awkward to leave a stumbling, fumbling message for her. What would I say anyway? Call me? If she wanted to talk to me, she'd answer her phone. Leaving her a message wasn't going to change that.

Besides, I honestly didn't know quite what I would say to her anyway." I'm sorry?" For what? Loving her?

"_**Thinkin bout all that I've forgotten**_

_**I'm still Adam in the garden**_

_**Walking naked in this morning's holy rain…"**_

Maybe that's exactly what I was when it came to love. What did I honestly know about it? Sure, I loved my daughter and somewhere deep inside, I even loved Henry, but what the hell did I honestly know about loving a woman? What did I know about loving Vic?

Obviously, not very much or else she'd be here with me.

"_**Thinkin bout all that I've forgotten…"**_

…or just plain choosing not to think about those things at all.

I _knew _why I'd demanded the truth from Vic. Sure, it had a lot to do with her, but more to do with the way things had been between Martha and I. The truth between us had never come easy and when it finally did, we'd both found ourselves somewhere we didn't want to be and I never wanted to go back to that! Never again wanted to be somewhere I was never meant to be, so I needed the truth to point me in the right direction.

Vic was keeping something from me and as 'right' as I thought I was, I knew I was keeping things from her, too. Secrets and sins…

I wanted to share mine with her, but I hadn't, not even to save this day and it was more than clear that she wasn't ready to share hers with me, either, so there it was, the true stalemate in our dubious relationship. There really was no moving forward until both of us moved back. I really didn't want to and I was damn sure that Vic didn't want to, either, so just where did that leave us?

I glanced back behind me, to the kitchen. All tidied up, except for that broken counter…Its condition spoke of so many things and despite knowing better, I thought about calling her again, leaving her a message, asking her one more time to just stay…

"_**For the night is young and aren't we, both of us**_

_**Lost and looking for**_

_**That convincing touch to make us**_

_**Think of something more…"**_

Maybe Vic was right. Maybe this really was all about sex. Maybe it was only about the closeness that act provided, the need to touch and be touched. Moments that reassured you you weren't alone in the world. Wrapped up in each other, safe and warm and so very alive…

I could entertain that thought, but I wasn't completely buying it. Sex with Lizzie hadn't made me long for 'more'. It had been alright, a way to satisfy an urge, but when it was over, it was over and the only emotion I'd felt leaving her was guilt.

Vic's leaving left me empty. Left me feeling lost and alone. Alone as I'd felt, standing on that highway, watching my parents dissolve in to ashes…

Thinkin.

Drinkin.

I couldn't seem to stop the one and couldn't deny the need for the other. I could go see Henry. I could do both those things with him, but I knew even if he didn't ask, he'd be silently analyzing me…

Thinkin.

…and then it hit me.

There was somewhere I could go. Someone I could see. Someone I could share a drink with and get a good old dose of the truth, about myself and who I really was. Someone who knew me almost as well as Henry did, but in a totally different way. Someone who could take me back and truly understand why I did things the way I did. Someone who might just be able to show me the difference between being lonely or being in love.

I grabbed my hat and my coat. Snatched up the car keys and headed out the door. Destination? Uptown…


	11. Chapter 11

**Yup, I'm still alive:) Thanks to this rainy May long weekend, I was able to at long last get some writing done. Don't y'all faint now:):) It's been a very long time, I know...But here we go, on to more Walt:). Hope I haven't gotten rusty with all the down time. I trust you readers will let me know if this is true:)  
**

**Update - my house sold! So busy packing up and looking for another place to live, but once I find it, I'll be back to seriously writing!:) Stay tuned, PLEASE!:)**

**Chapter 11**

How many times over the years had I passed through these doors? If I even tried to count them, I'd be feeling my age – and I was already painfully reminded of it this not so fine morning. The booze-induced hangover was pretty well working itself out, but the emotional hangover just kept giving and giving.

Anger, happiness, frustration and desire all kind of tangled up with each other and even though I would've eventually made my way here sometime today to shoot the shit and toast the New Year, this time, I was on a bit of a mission.

"Happy New Year, Walt!"

I stopped short, startled out of my own little world. Apparently, it was a rather self-absorbed mission.

"Uh…"

I had to search for her name, that's how bad I was! I'd known this woman a good long time, had met her babies and watched them grow up – just one more reminder of how fast and far the years had gone by.

"Jenny…"

"As ever!" she replied, looking a little worried. "You okay, Sheriff? For a minute there, I thought you were just gonna pass me by without saying howdy."

"Well, I, uh, was – "

"Heard you were out to the Pony last night," she said softly, leaning in close to me and winking.

I felt colour fill my face but hoped it didn't show. Just what and how much had she heard? I took a breath and put on my hard-ass face. She put a hand on my arm and said even softer,

"Even the Sheriff gets to tip a few on New Year's, Walt. No shame in that. Just had to give you a hard time, is all."

I searched her face for any sign of smugness. For any hint that she was actually saying more than what she'd said.

"Lighten up, for cryin' out loud," she laughed. "It's not like I heard you were swingin' from the rafters or any some such!"

I exhaled. She was not withholding. I smiled.

"Had to stop by and make sure things were in hand," I laughed. "Speaking of which….Is he awake?" and I nodded down the hallway.

"I'm pretty sure that old son hasn't even gone to bed yet," Jenny said with a roll of her eyes before bringing them to bear on my gunbelt.

"You're armed so that qualifies you to go see for yourself. Me? I'm just gonna mind my own business and move on over behind that desk where things should be safe."

As she moved to do just that, I called out after her.

"Happy New Year, Jenny," and I was hoping she'd at least get the benefit of that statement.

In last night's context, those same words, spoken to me by Vic in that sultry, sexy voice of hers had made me believe it would be a wonderfully happy new year, but those same words, thrown at me with a 'fucking' in there for good measure and a heaping dose of anger and sarcasm made last night seem like nothing more than one of my fantasies about her.

Damn, how the hell had things gone so wrong? I knew how…but I still didn't understand it. I still felt angry when I thought of her telling me that what happened between us wasn't any big deal – and I still found myself wanting her all over again in spite of me saying I wouldn't go there until she basically came to her senses about us.

Chock, chock, chock down the hallway I went. I knew the way by heart. I could've done it blindfolded. Just as I reached my destination, I felt an insane urge to just turn around and walk away. What the hell was I doing? Was I really here to talk? Me?

Before I could change my mind I knocked on the door.

"Why the hell don't you just quit your fool knockin' and come on in, the way you people always do? It don't seem to matter that I paid good money for this place. Apparently, money doesn't buy privacy around here!"

I started to announce myself then stopped abruptly after 'it's'. Did I really want to go through with this? Well, that greeting had brought a slight tug to my lips. Almost felt like I might just smile and that was something considering the way this day was going. What the hell…

"It's me," I stated, committing myself to this course of action.

"Well, 'me'….you know how to work a doorknob, dontcha?"

I most certainly did and I turned the doorknob and entered the room. You think I would have felt my control of the situation slipping away – or more likely 'running' away, but I didn't.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"So…I hear you and that Playboy bunny deputy of yours were knockin' boots last night…"

Bad enough that he actually said it, but did he have to look so lecherous about it? Somehow, he knew. It shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. I should've just stayed home and gone back to bed…

"How was she, Walt? Feisty, I bet!" and that set him to laughing, but I knew he seriously wanted to know. Oh, God..

"Guess I don't know you as well as I thought I did, Lucian. Never took you for one to put much stock in…heresay," I managed to say calmly, doing my best to remain expressionless.

Despite my efforts, I felt his eyes boring in to mine and heat crept up my neck. I decided to study the chessboard between us. He decided to lean back and smirk at me. I felt it.

"There's eye witnesses to you swappin' spit with Miss November, Walt…"

"Inebriated eyewitnesses. Not reliable sources, pal," I replied. Then it hit me what he'd called Vic.

"How the hell do you know Vic's born in November?" That last part honestly surprised me.

Sure, I wanted to talk, but not quite like or about this! I hadn't expected him to know what he knew, not being here in this 'retirement facility' as he liked to call it. The rest of us called it an 'old folks home' and Lucian Connally was definitely one of those type of 'folk'.

I'd come to his room to find him all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed which was not his usual affectation most times. That should've been a give-away right there, but I wasn't my usual straight-thinkin' self this morning, so there was that…

Besides wanting to talk to him on this not so fine morning, it was our habit since Martha's death to get together on New Year's day, play the ever on-going game of chess and toast the possibilities of yet another year under the sun. I'd forgotten all about our arrangement back at the cabin. I'd had other things on my mind when the idea of coming to see Lucian popped in to my head. I could still back out of this…

When I walked in, I expected him to give me the gears about being late because I was, but he'd only raised his eyebrows at me, gave me a shit-eating grin and proceeded to set up the game after pouring us each a shot of whiskey from his private reserve. Now, here we were, not even to the toasting part and Lucian was directing the conversation. Yeah, I really should've just stayed home…

"I snooped through her file when you were out one day, Walt. What can I say? That little firecracker sparked my interest the minute I laid eyes on her!"

I let out an exasperated sigh and raised my head to glare at him. He winked.

"Do the words 'personal' and 'confidential' mean anything to you?" I asked him.

"Only in dirty contexts. Ahh, hell, Walt! You know when somethin' tickles my fancy I'm gonna want to scratch it. I would've found out eventually. It was just easier to take a peek at her considerable dossier. I ain't a young man anymore. Don't have time to pussy-foot around," and he was throwing out double entendres like the sky was spitting out snow.

Why the hell did I put up with this guy?

I guess because he put up with me.

Thirty-seven years ago, Lucian Connally, the then Sheriff of Absaroka County, had given me a choice - work for him or get hauled off to a detention home.

Sitting across from him now, watching him waggle his eyebrows at me like the borderline miscreant and just plain dirty old man he truly was, I couldn't help but wonder if the 'home' might not have been the wiser of the two. Just goes to show that at seventeen, I might not have been making the brightest choices of my life. Finding myself here at fifty-four only proved that I still had a long way to go when it came to making the best decisions…

"C'mon, Walt! Like the kids nowadays say, give me the deets!"

He rested his forearms on the table between us and leaned in close.

"I'm bettin' she was hotter than the pavement in July. Did she jump your beat-up old bones the minute you got to that middle of nowhere cabin of yours? Did you -? I mean, I know it's been a while, Walt. Not since that Ambrose woman. Yeah, she was a looker, but Miss Vickie, she's got the fire! Nothin' like a sassy woman to rile up a man's sap, even yours!"

"You're barkin' up the wrong tree, Lucian," I warned him, keeping a stony face. Where the hell did this guy get his intel from? Henry came to mind, but no, Lucian and Henry would never be confidantes. No how, no way!

"Hell, son, you look like someone pissed on your tree! I know what I know and 'how' ain't none of your beeswax! Save that 'go fuck yourself' expression for one of your no-goods. You and the Philly Flyer swapped spit among other bodily fluids and quite frankly, I never expected to see you here today, but in ya come and I'm expecting to see…I don't know, some life? Some damn joy on your face? A spring in your step? Hell, I might've settled for a smile at the least, but oh no! Just what the hell is the matter with you, Walt? You just engaged in the horizontal mamba with the only woman around these parts that I ever thought was any good for you and you're gonna act like nothing happened? Good God Almighty, boy!" and at long last, he stopped talking, threw his hands up in the air, leaned back in his chair and just looked at me. He was expecting me to respond to his tirade.

I got up. Pushed my chair back. Reached for my hat.

"I don't know why I ever thought I could come here and talk to you,' I said softly while I adjusted my hat on my head. "If you really want the 'deets', maybe it's best if you go see Vic. It's all about the sex, right?"

I slipped on my coat and without looking at Lucian, made my way to the door. Silence followed me. I grabbed the doorknob and turned it.

"Wait a sec, Walt…"

His quiet tone kept me from opening the door but I kept my back to him. I knew Lucian. I knew what he was like. I shouldn't have been reacting to him the way I was, but while I might've seen the humour in my situation if the outcome and been different, I just wasn't in the mood for his style.

I meant to come here, maybe try talking to him about Vic, my feelings for her – he was the closest thing to a father I had, and it was thanks to my father that I'd ever crossed personal lines with Lucian in the first place. He was older and I'd been hoping 'wiser.' He knew me in ways that Henry didn't. He'd been with me when…

"Son, come sit back down."

"I gotta go," I mumbled.

"Walt…when your daddy turned you over to me, I swore to your mama that I'd take care of you. That day, on the highway, I swore to your daddy that I'd keep an eye on you for him. If there is an after-life, they're lookin' down on us now and seein' that I'm not keepin' to my word."

"I don't want to talk about any of that, Lucian," and I didn't. There were places inside of me that still hurt when it came to my parents and my father in particular.

"That's fine. For now. I understand, but you came here wantin' to talk about somethin' and I just got carried away. I've been rootin' for you and Miss Vickie for some time now, hopin' you two would finally see the light and take ahold of each other. That you're here should've told me something, but I thought you were being all honourable on me, comin' for New Year just because you always do. C'mon, son…sit back down and tell me what you want to tell me."

I stood there for a moment longer. Did I really need to do this? I could just go home. Stare at the phone. Think about calling Vic. Maybe go seek her out if she wasn't taking my calls. Go to her….and then what? If she put her arms around me, kissed me, I'd be a goner. She'd make her point, we'd have more of that fantastic sex and I'd be left where I was right now; wanting more from her and never knowing if I'd have it.

I sat down. Took off my hat but kept my coat on. I wasn't ready to get too comfortable. Lucian just looked at me, waiting. I held out as long as I could, then I caved.

"I love her…"

"I'm not doubting you one bit son, but what do you know about love, Walt?"

"In case you've gotten that senile, Lucian, I was married."

"Yup, I seem to recall that, but again, what do you know about love?"

"Me, Martha, Cady…"

Lucian smiled a little.

"You've got this whole damn town fooled, Walt, but now who's gone senile? I was there. I know the story about you and Martha. It wasn't about love and it didn't have a happy ending."

I looked hard at him.

"No one knows that story except me, my parents, her parents, Henry and Barlow. There's only the two of us left alive…" and again I wondered if Henry and Lucian were more than I could ever believe they were.

"Don't you be thinkin' me and Fancy Underpants are in cahoots, Walt. Let's just say we're still carryin' on that healthy distrust of each other. Suits us both just fine, I do believe."

"I know you and Barlow were never close and as for my dad…He might've been your friend, but he wouldn't have said anything, even to you. He was a man of honour," and I couldn't quite say that last bit without sounding angry.

"I didn't hear anything from anybody, Walt. You were working for me then and I did possess some damn fine observational skills way back when, if I do say so myself."

"Then what did you observe, Lucian?"

"Why don't we start at the beginning, Walt?"

Before I could stop him, he was leaning back in his chair, reminiscing.

"Your daddy, he was one of my closest friends. We grew up together. He met your ma, married her and along you came. I'd met you a time or two when you were just a sprout. I recall you being a bit on the 'outgoing' side, believe it or not. Full of life and curious about everything. You were the apple of your mama's eye and she loved you with all she had, son."

"I know that, Lucian."

"I'm sure you do, Walt. She was a fine woman, that mother of yours…" and a soft smile curved his lips while he drifted off in to yesterday.

"Did you -?"

"No, no! I merely worshipped her from afar. Her place was with your daddy and he was my friend. A good friend, too!"

I must've made some kind of sound, something that sounded disdainful because Lucian leaned forward and put on of his hands over mine where it rested on the table.

"Your dad loved you, too, Walt."

I snatched my hand away and ran it through my hair.

"This is not what I want to talk about!"

"You came here to talk about love, didn't you?"

"My love, for Vic! Not fairy-tales, Lucian."

"And you think you know what's best for her, don't you? Tell me what happened, Walt and then I'll tell you a thing or two."

"I'm suddenly feeling like pleading the fifth."

"I won't push you for the 'deets'. Just the facts, you scaredy-cat!"

"I'm not scared, Lucian…"

"And you're not a good liar, either, Walt. Fess up, now."

"Alright…"Might just as well.

I stood up, slipped my coat off and began to pace.

"Vic and I, we had to take a prisoner up to Bozeman yesterday. Long ride. She fell asleep on the way home. She wound up snuggled against me and it just hit me. I love her. Have for a long time and I wanted to tell her, but things just kept getting in the way. We ended up at the Pony, one thing led to another and by the end of the night, I was kissing her and things got a…uh, a little heated between us. We went back to the cabin and…well…."

"All-nighter?" Lucian asked just a little too enthusiastically.

"Let's just say I haven't really slept yet."

"And the problem is?"

"I nodded off at some point and when I woke up, Vic was watching me. Right there in my bedroom where I'd dreamed about seeing her so many times…"

"This just keeps getting' better and better," Lucian laughed.

"And then I remembered Horse. I jumped out of bed, ran to take care of him and when I came back inside, things just seemed…different. I can't explain it. There she was, making me breakfast. Wearing my shirt – "

"You're killin' me here, Walt – "

" – and she looked so right there. It all felt so right. I went to her, she took me in, but then she pushed me away. Made light of it. Told me I was cold from being outside and to go have a shower."

"Okay, a mite disappointing, but hardly tragic."

"Something wasn't right, Lucian. I had that shower, thought about it all. Remembered telling her at some point that I loved her – "

"Tell me she was nekked when you said that!"

"- but she never said it back to me. I tried to say it again when I came in and that's when she told me to go shower."

Strange how once I'd started, I couldn't seem to keep the words from coming out. I hardly noticed Lucian's interruptions now.

"I'm thinkin' she might've been a little 'busy' the first time you said it and that maybe the next time, you might've had a bit of horse aroma about you…Not exactly romantic, Walt."

"Something changed, Lucian. Something made her different and when I came out of the shower, I decide to confront her about it."

"Oh, no…"

"Yeah, it didn't go over very well. We fought. I gave her an ultimatum and she chose leaving over taking me up on it."

"And just what was your ultimatum, Walt?"

"Love me or leave me, basically."

"Sit down, son. You're making me dizzy."

I did as he asked and he pushed the shot of whiskey my way.

"Tip'er back, boy."

I did. He did. I almost gagged. He gave a sigh of satisfaction

"I suppose if I ask, you ain't gonna tell me any more of the sex parts, are you?"

My hard look was his answer. It was his turn to sigh.

"Alright then, tell me about the fight. Why'd you feel that you had to give her an ultimatum."

"I came right out and told her I loved her. That started it. She told me I was making too much out of it. She admitted the sex was 'mind-blowing' to quote her – "

"Mind-blowing! Oh, Lord! And was it?"

"It was and then some. Like nothing I've ever experienced." I couldn't help throwing that in even though I hadn't meant to. It was the truth, but I did it mostly just to get Lucian's goat.

"What a shame to waste that on a prude like you, Walt," Lucian muttered under his breath. I glared at him.

"I've been around a bit, old man," I reminded him.

"I've probably seen more action lately than you have in your entire life, Walt, although I wouldn't call any of it particularly 'mind-blowing'. Lucky bastard!"

I glared at him.

"Okay, so she blew your mind, among other things, no doubt…" and he affected an air of innocence, a sort of 'did I say that?'

"What's so bad about that?" he asked.

"I…." I spread my hands. "I didn't want it to be just about sex. Not with Vic. When I saw her in the kitchen, at home in my place, that's what I wanted. To have her there every morning. To wake up to her, go to sleep with her."

"Have sex with her whenever the mood strikes?"

No winning with this guy!

"Yeah, sure! But you're not listening to what I'm saying, you dirty old man."

"And you're skippin' over all the good parts I want to be listening to, Walt."

"I'm gonna get up and leave for good this time if you don't knock it off.! I'm serious, Lucian!"

"I know you are, Walt. Go on, tell me about the fight. I'll keep my yap shut."

"I told her I loved her. She told me to lighten up and just enjoy what we'd had. Denied that there was any love involved. But Lucian, she was jealous about Lizzie and Martha! If she didn't care, why should that bother her?"

"Women are complicated creatures, Walt. Heavenly, but complicated. You told her the story with Lizzie, right? And what about Martha? I'm sure if Vic knew what that was all about – "

"I can't tell her! I won't tell her if it's just gonna be sex between us."

"Maybe that's all it ever will be unless you do tell her, Walt. Ever think of that? I'm sure Vic's been here long enough now to have heard all about 'the greatest love story ever told'."

"I loved Martha, Lucian."

"After a fashion and towards the end, I'm sure you did, Walt…but that wasn't how it was in the beginning. I'm sure Miss Vickie's goin' around thinkin' Martha was the love of your life, so what do you expect from her? You say you love her and think she's not gonna wonder?"

"You don't know what you're talking about! I married her. She was my wife for almost thirty years."

"Tell me then why I never saw you in love, Walt? I saw you giving up your dreams, hardening yourself, working yourself to death, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, but I never saw you being in love. The closest I ever saw you to that was the day Cady was born, although there was a heapin' helpin' of relief mixed up with that love. I know what happened, Walt."

"Maybe you do. Maybe you know part of it, Lucian, but I am not going to talk about it with you…or anyone else!"

"Suit yourself, Walt, but if I were you, I'd reconsider that where Vic's concerned."

"She either loves me or she doesn't. My telling her about Martha shouldn't have any bearing on that."

"Y'know, you surely do remind me of this fellow I used to know. Guarded, stubborn as a mule. He came to me once, lookin' for some advice in matters of the heart and he wouldn't listen to me anymore than you are now."

"Maybe he figured it all out on his own."

"Don't reckon so. The proof of his failure is lookin' me square in the face."

It took me a moment to get that one, but when I did, I felt myself closing up like a clam.

"I'm not talking to you about my dad."

"I'm not askin' you to, Walt. I just want you to get settled and listen to the ramblings of an old man. Might be that somewhere along the way, the things I tell you about then might have some bearing on the situation you find yourself in now."

I went to move. Lucian quickly placed his hand on mine.

"Don't, Walt. You're not the only one sittin' on some truths for someone else. I made some promises to your daddy, only one of which was to keep an eye on you. The others? Well, you need to hear all the things he could never come out and say to you."

I wanted to leave. Boy, did I ever, but the pleading look in Lucian's eyes made me stay in my seat. Both my parents had been invading my thoughts of late, my dad in particular. Was there a reason for it?

"I'm only about to break his silence because….because I stood with you on that highway that day, Walt. I watched you watching them burn up and I saw a good part of you die that day."

Lucian was close to tears and looking all his years. He gripped my hand tight. His was shaking.

"If I would've known it was your folks, Walt, I never, ever would've sent you out there. I should've known! I should've been the one first on the scene, but I wasn't…and I've never forgiven myself for what happened that day."

"It wasn't your fault, Lucian." I could barely get the words out.

"I don't know about that…but Walt…I have loved you like a son almost since the day your daddy dragged you in to my office, wanting me to arrest you. That day on the highway, I loved you more because you did what you had to do and then you came back and carried on. I loved you because I loved your daddy like he was my brother."

Lucian paused only long enough to wipe at his eyes.

"We both lost a piece of ourselves out there, but you? It changed you, the way Death changed your dad long before you were born. He was a good man, Walt, like you, but he had his demons. We never talked much about them, but we should've. He never talked much about you, either, until that day. He sat in my office while you waited outside and told me everything!"

"It couldn't have been much of a conversation," I said, trying to lighten the mood a bit, but there was bitter truth in those words.

There'd never been much between my dad and myself, therefore, not much to talk about. As for facing Death, yeah, sure, my dad had served his time in 'the War'. I could see how that would change a person. I'd faced my own share of death, but warfare was unimaginable.

If Lucian was trying to make me forgive my dad, he was wasting his time, though. I was his only son and he should've loved me! He'd told me he did just before he died, but he was also talking a lot of other things that made no sense. To me, the death-bed declaration didn't count.

"Do you remember that day you and I were introduced, Walt?"

Lucian's grip had loosened on my hand and he seemed under control again. I wondered for a moment if he'd been up to some serious drinking before I showed up. I'd never seen him lose control before, except briefly, out on that highway, but I barely remembered him in all of that.

"Kinda hard to forget when your own father drags you down to the cop-shop!" I answered, going for that forced levity again. Lucian wasn't buying it.

"You still resent him for that, don't you?"

I shrugged.

"Does it matter? I didn't come here for this, y'know."

"You came here to talk about matters of the heart, Walt, but the thing is, our hearts get all tangled up with other hearts and more times than not, that leads to one bloody mess all around."

It was hard to disagree with that so I didn't bother even trying to. It was obvious Lucian wanted to talk about all this. I owed him at least the semblance of listening. I owed him so much more than that…

"I do remember that day," I said seriously, giving his hand a quick pat. I refilled his whisky glass along with my own, "and because you keep steering the conversation in that direction, I'll stop fighting you on it."

That was as close as I was going to get to admitting that I loved the old pain in my ass.

I saluted him with my glass and downed it all at once.

"I know you think you're only humouring an old man, Walt, but diggin' up one truth might just lead to diggin' up others. You think Vickie's lyin' about the way she feels t'wards you and maybe you're right. Maybe she's got her own issues to deal with, just like you have yours. Hell, maybe this ain't even about you! Maybe this old man is just feeling the weight of time on his hunched shoulders. Maybe it's about makin' this new year an actual happy one, despite the way it's startin' off. Or maybe me and you are just gonna get shit-faced and forget this ever happened! Just, c'mon, keep humouring me. Tell me what you remember about that day," and he returned my salute.

"I'm thinkin' there's enough whiskey here to make it bearable," I muttered.

"That's the spirit, Walt!"

I refilled my glass, then his and sat back, signaling my surrender. I took a deep breath, wondering idly what the hell I was about to get myself in to and then proceeded to getting on with it. As I recalled, it went something like this…

XXXXXXXXXXXX

I only just got the car in Park when the back door flew open and my dad came storming across the yard, my mom not far behind him. I hadn't quite forseen him being awake this early. It appeared I'd be shovelling manure a lot sooner than I'd anticipated.

I took the keys out of the ignition and opened the door, wearily resigned to my fate, but before I could get myself out, my dad was right there, pushing me back in.

"Slide your ass on over there, Walt, and give me the damn keys," he ordered.

He didn't yell at me the way he had when he'd caught me drinking. Instead, he was curt about it…and dangerously quiet. I'd expected trouble, but by the tone of his voice, this was trouble with a capital 'T'. The quieter my dad got, the more shit was about to hit the fan.

"Dad, I just –".

"Shut up, Walter! I don't wanna hear one damn word out of you!" He snatched the keys from my hand and pushed me over by climbing in behind the wheel.

"You wanna go for a joy-ride, I'll take you for a joy-ride! Think you can just take my car, stay out all night and then just sneak back in like everything's fine? Not this time, son!"

He jammed the keys in the ignition, cranked the motor and slammed his foot down on the gas. That's when my mom showed up at his window, breathless.

"John, what are you doing? Just…bring Walter inside. We'll hear what he has to say for himself and –"

"Not this time, Cathy! I am done with this son of yours acting like a punk!"

"He's your son, too, John!" she reminded him angrily.

My dad sat there a moment, revving the engine and thinking. I figured he was thinking what I always thought he was thinking when it came to me – something along the lines of wondering how he'd ever ended up with a son like me.

For as far back as I could remember, my relationship with my father had always been strained at best. It suited me fine, because at seventeen, I didn't want to be anything like my father and his disapproval of my ways told me that we had nothing in common.

Those feelings were only reinforced when he'd look at me sometimes and just sigh and shake his head. I was kind of hoping he'd do that right now and just get on with doling out the punishment.

"You're right," he said to my mom finally, "Walt is my son. My underage son. My son who doesn't have a license to drive. My son who stole my car and took off all night, leaving you to worry about him. My son who snuck home this morning, hoping I somehow wouldn't notice." He turned to face me.

" So, my son and I are going to go for a little drive, Cathy. He's already got the car all nice and warmed up."

"Where are you going, John?"

"To town…to see Lucian."

The name rang a faint bell, but for the life of me, I couldn't think exactly who he meant. In my own defense, I was tired. My mom, on the other hand, knew exactly who my dad was talking about and it was clear she wasn't pleased.

"John! Don't do this!"

"There's nothing else to do," my dad replied. "Best you stand clear, Cathy," and without another word, he pulled the lever down in to Drive.

My mom jumped back and we took off. I flew against the passenger side door. I grabbed the door handle for dear life and hung on tight.

I could hear my mom shouting my dad's name, begging him to stop, to change his mind, to turn the car around, her voice fading as we left her behind. I know my dad heard her too, but he chose to ignore her. He chose to ignore me, too, which was nothing new to me.

I realized I was showing him fear. I relaxed my grip on the door handle, settled back in to my seat and affected an air of belligerent indifference. My throat had gone dry, though and my heart was pounding. He was driving way too fast!

"Were you with Henry last night, Walt? Out getting into trouble? I mean, if you were, I could always make a detour through the Reservation and pick him up. I'm sure his dad would be agreeable to it. Both of them could join us on our early morning ride."

"Henry wasn't with me," and it was the truth.

Henry had tried to talk me out of what I'd been planning on doing so I hadn't told him exactly when I was doing it, to keep him from getting mixed up in all this. I had the feeling, along with terror, that he'd thank me for it one day.

"Can you maybe just slow down a bit, Dad?"

"Who were you with, Walt?" A question for a question and no sign of slowing down.

"No one."

This was a lie. I tried my best to state it as a fact. My hand crept up to my jaw and I rubbed absently. Peach-fuzz had turned to real whiskers and I needed a shave…

"Were you with a girl?"

"Dad…look…I had something to do. I needed the car. I meant to ask, but…"

"But you knew I'd say no so you took it anyway! How could I say yes when you're not old enough to drive?"

"I've been driving that old truck since I was twelve," I informed him.

"On the ranch, Walt! Not on the highway! What you did is illegal, not to mention the fact that you took my car without my permission. You stole my car…and now you're going to face the consequences. I have had enough of you and your wild ways, Walt!"

"Okay. Fine. Let's just head back home and you can make me muck out the stables for the rest of my life! We don't need to be out here, doing a million miles an hour down the highway!"

"Not this time, Walt. I warned you about disobeying me. This time, I'll let the Sheriff decide your punishment."

The Sheriff? Lucian. Lucian Connally!

It all clicked in to place. He wasn't serious, was he? I'd never met the guy even though he was a friend of my dad's but I'd heard about him. One mean, tough son of a bitch from what I'd gathered and the adjective 'crazy' had been used to describe him more times than not.

I glanced at my dad's profile - all I could see of him. He might as well have been chiselled out of stone. No give in him. No softness. Nothing but steely-eyed concentration on the road ahead of us and an aura of barely suppressed anger. I saw the way he was clenching the steering wheel.

"Dad…I'm sorry! Really! I wouldn't have done it, I swear, but I…I had to help a friend."

"A friend? You couldn't have just come to me and your mother and asked us to help?"

No, I couldn't. Neither one of them would have appreciated this particular friend nor the nature of our relationship. They wouldn't have understood why I had to do what I did.

While I was thinking about that, my dad was thinking his own thoughts. He jammed on the brakes. I wasn't ready for that and I flew against the dashboard, then back against the seat. A startled 'hey' escaped me.

"You didn't get some girl pregnant, did you?"

Now, my dad was looking right at me. Right. At. Me. I was eternally grateful at that moment that I could answer him with the truth.

"No, I didn't!" but it wasn't for lack of trying. It had more to do with birth control. Praise Jesus and pass the peas…

"If you're lying to me, boy…"

"Honest, Dad, it wasn't anything like that!"

And it wasn't.

First off, Dawn MorningStar wasn't a 'girl'. She was twenty-one years old. Second, she already had a kid, a son and he wasn't mine. Third, that she'd seduced me and skillfully taken my virginity was no damn business of my father's. I almost felt like telling him the whole damn story, just to see the look on his face when he found out that I wasn't a kid anymore. I was a man, now…

…and fine, he could take me to the Sheriff. He could have me locked up. I wasn't about to tell him or anyone else about Dawn. She was gone now, safe from the father of her child, and if I wanted her to stay that way, it meant keeping my mouth shut about what I'd done.

It also meant never seeing her again, never lying with her again, never having her kiss me again. Never burying my face in her long black hair and feeling it tickle my chest…

"Dad, this honestly isn't about anything like that!"

I swear his gaze softened just a little, but in the early morning light, I might just have imagined it. I'd never seen him look softly upon me before, so how would I know if I was seeing it or not?

"Son…just tell me why."

His voice seemed softer, too.

"I…I can't, Dad. I just…I can't."

If it had been a 'moment' it was fleeting. His eyes turned back to steel even as he exhaled audibly. He gave me one more look, this one full of scrutiny, before gunning the engine and off we went again. No more talking.

Something had changed dramatically between us when I'd refused to tell him why. His anger might still have been quiet towards me, but I suddenly heard it loud and clear in my head. I also felt a sense of resignation, as though he truly was about to wash his hands of me, once and for all. Somewhere inside of me, I latched on to the hope that he was only bluffing when it came to the Sheriff. Seriously, what kind of father has his own son arrested for something so damn trivial?

Ten minutes later, my dad was hauling me up the stairs to the Sheriff's office by my ear. During the silent ride to town, my hope had turned to resentment and that resentment turned again to embarrassment as my dad plowed through the office door and threw me unceremoniously on to a hard wooden bench directly across from the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, aside from Dawn.

"Is Lucian in, Ruby?" my dad barked.

"In his office, John. You know the way," and her voice was like velvet.

"You," my dad growled, pointing a finger at me,"just sit there and mind your damn manners!"

Apparently, the quiet anger was gone now and the storm was approaching.

He left me sitting in the outermost area of the office while he went in to talk to Sheriff Connally. He wasn't bluffing. He was going to have me arrested or worse, if there was worse. I sat there, nervous as all hell, convinced I was on my way to jail and embarrassment turned to fear.

Ruby sat at the dispatch/reception desk directly opposite me, eyeing me over. I tried to avoid her gaze, but when she spoke, I had no choice but to look at her; she was gorgeous.

"So, you're John Longmire's boy?"

"Yes, ma'am" I replied, thinking good manners might just keep me out of jail.

"Walter, right?"

I nodded.

"You in some kind of trouble, son?"

"So my dad says, ma'am…"

It was hard talking to her. She had beautiful, shiny long auburn hair and the softest blue eyes I'd ever seen. I knew she was at least a good fifteen years older than I was, but I was smitten. I was seventeen. I was a raging mess of testosterone. I was fickle, my feelings intense, but transitory.

"What did you do, Walter Longmire?"

I looked down at the floor, twirling my old ball cap in my hands. Talking to pretty girls wasn't my forte at the best of times. I could talk to Dawn, finally, but then again, 'talking' wasn't what we did best together…

"I was…just helping a friend…" I mumbled.

"Did you cause a ruckus? Set something on fire? Crash a car?"

"No, ma'am…."

I'd only 'borrowed' my dad's car. He called it 'stealing'. It was a matter of perspective. I looked up. Be a man, my dad always told me, even when I was a kid and so I gave it a try.

"I didn't do anything wrong," I told her with all the righteous of youth. "I was only trying to help…"

She got up then, left her desk to come sit beside me on the hard wooden bench. Her nearness threatened to suffocate me. It was draining the oxygen and the blood from my head and sending it…other places.

"I guess that's up to your dad and Sheriff Connally to decide, isn't it?" and my righteousness evaporated, along with other things, when I caught the slight hint of a threat in her voice. She was smiling. though. Trepidation must have shown on my face because she reached out and patted my knee.

"If you're lucky, Lucian might just aim to wound instead of kill, although that would be a first for him," and with those not-comforting words, she sashayed back to her desk and left me there to stew.

My dad came out of the office not too long after, looking upset, almost…vulnerable, but he quickly hid that softness with a scowl. I swear I saw it, like I thought I saw it in the car on the way here, but I was too keyed up to pay much attention to what might or might not have been.

"Get on in there, son," he ordered me. "Sheriff wants to have a word with you. Mind your mouth, too. Lucian doesn't take kindly to smart-ass punks."

He held the swinging gate open that separated the reception area from the bullpen and waved me through, keeping his head down. He wouldn't look at me.

I was about to meet Sheriff Lucian Connally, the stuff of legends…or horror stories. Probably a bit of both.

The door to his office stood open. He was sitting behind a big old wooden desk, reclining in his chair, boot heels up on the uncluttered surface. I walked in hesitantly even though I was going for 'confidence'. Maybe a little arrogance, too.

"Have a seat, stringbean" he invited.

I sat on the edge of the wooden chair across the desk from him. He'd been cleaning his gun and seemed more interested in that than he was in me. There was a long, uncomfortable silence on my part before he spoke again.

"So, your dad tells me you've been gettin' up to no good with that Larry LeaningChair," he drawled as he loaded the bullets back in his gun. "Were you with him this time around?"

It took me a bit more than a moment to figure out who the heck he was talking about. I honestly had no idea…and then it clicked.

"His name is Henry StandingBear," I stupidly corrected him. To make things worse I added defiantly, "You should get his name right – and no, he wasn't with me. I was…alone."

Lying again. Lucian knew it. I felt it in the hard look he gave me, but he didn't chase after it.

"I don't give a good goddamn what his name is, son. He could be fuckin' Geronimo for all I care" and he clicked the chamber in to place.

As swift as a fox, he sat up, leaned over his desk and looked me straight in the eye. Another blue-eyed stare, but unlike Ruby's, Lucian's eyes had been as cold as a mountain lake. Yeah, I could see the 'crazy' in him.

I lied about being alone – and he knew it! He was trying to intimidate me, make me fess up. I didn't. He was giving me my moment to come clean. I wasn't taking it and so, he continued.

"All I care about is the fact that your old man, my friend, John Longmire, saw fit to bring you in here so I could give you an ass-kickin'. Your daddy's a good man, salt of the earth and you, Walter Longmire, ought to have enough respect for him and your ma to do right by them! Drinkin' and stealin' cars; that don't sound like respect to me!"

I was quaking in my sneakers. Something about that cold stare of his had gone straight to my marrow. So much for defiance and arrogance.

"I…uh…I…."

I might've cracked then but he'd given me my time and that time had passed.

"Ahh, stop your damn stammerin'," Lucian scoffed.

He leaned back in his leather chair once more, his elbows propped on the armrests. He laced his fingers together and looked me up and down.

"You're a big old son, ain't cha? A little on the skinny side, but you might just do. Your dad tells me you're some kind of hot-shot on the football field. Got yourself a scholarship and all. One more year of school and then you're off to college, huh, boy?"

This was a strange change of direction.

"Yes, sir" I answered, all puffed up with pride in spite of my predicament. Foolish youth...

"Well, Mr. Hotshot Running Back, how would you like to spend that last year working for me?"

That had been the very last thing I'd expected to hear from him. A small flame of hope sparked in me.

"You mean you want me to be a deputy?"

The idea excited me. Lucian just laughed but there was nothing pleasant about it.

"Deputy? No son, I got plenty of them…What I need is someone to clean this place up, scrub the puke, piss and blood out of those cells yonder, take out the trash and wash the cars. A big, strong boy like you ought to be able to handle that! Deputy? That's a good one son", and he chuckled.

My heart fell then. Anger replaced excitement. Lucian leaned across his desk yet again and spoke to me quietly.

"I'm really not offering you the job, son…I'm just givin' you a choice. Work for me or spend some time in one of those fancy delinquent homes. You're underage but I've got your daddy's permission to do with you what I want, so you just tone down that fire there, Walt, and think about this. I could throw you in jail if I really wanted to. Grand theft auto is a serious crime, son, and this is my county. I do what I please."

He picked up his gun then and idly twirled it around in his hand, his hard, cold eyes locked with mine.

I thought about it, didn't like my options. I was pretty sure he couldn't really throw me in jail, but send me to a home? That was a very real possibility. I knew my dad was mad enough to let him do it, too. In the end, I made my choice, as if there'd ever really been much choice in the first place! Being in that situation really pissed me off.

"When do I start?" was all I said with a decided lack of enthusiasm and the gloating laugh Lucian barked out made me hate him. The smug look he gave me at my apparent caving also made me vow not to let him get to me.

"You can take your skinny ass out there right now. Get Ruby to show you where the mop and pail are and get to workin'. Welcome to my world, Walt Longmire."

He laughed that crazy laugh of his as I stood up and stalked out of his office. I was full of dark thoughts, directed towards Lucian and mostly, my dad, for doing this to me.

"You old prick," I muttered under my breath, including both men in that category.

And so began my relationship with Lucian Connally and my career with the Absaroka County Sheriff's Department. That first year was a bitch…

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"I heard you call me an old prick", Lucian told me just before tipping back his glass and finishing off his whiskey. He took a long drag off the cigar he'd lit up.

"I was inclined to shoot you in the ass, but watchin' you walk out of my office, all dejected-like was good enough that day," he chuckled.

"You were an old prick back then and you still are," I told him. I was toying with my half-full glass. I'd had enough whiskey last night to make me cautious about partaking of much more today and the smell of Lucian's cigar was making me queasy.

"Yeah, well…only the good die young, Walt. You oughta know that by now."

I gave a grunt of agreement before a thoughtful silence fell between us. Both of us transported back to a place long ago and far away.

Back then, basically being Lucian's slave, I never imagined myself becoming the Sheriff. Never imagined Lucian being anything but and yet, here we sat. Life, with all its twists and turns, had a way of taking you places you never planned on going…

"As hard as I rode your ass, you took it, Walt ," Lucian mused. "You were a bit of a belligerent punk, but you took it and you toughed it out. I was proud of you, boy. You reminded me a lot of your daddy…"

I bristled. Couldn't help it. I felt my jaw set and Lucian must've seen it.

"You got to let go of your resentment, Walt."

"I don't have to do anything you say, anymore, Lucian. I don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad! I heard your side of that story and I heard it from your daddy, too. He ain't here to tell you how it was for him and I reckon it's about time someone filled you in!"

"He dragged me down there so you could arrest me! Yeah, maybe I wasn't a model son, but I didn't deserve that!"

"I don't know about that. You never did tell me why you stole his car…"

I tried to glare at him but still found myself being that seventeen year old kid, withering under his icy-blue gaze.

"Which one of us is going to tell our story first, Walt?"

No comment.

"Fine, I'll go first, but you're gonna tell me why you did what you did."

"I wouldn't count on that if I were you."

"We'll see. One truth begets another. Even Fancy Underpants would agree with me on this one."

Why hadn't I just gone to see Henry instead of coming here? Better yet, why hadn't I just stayed home, crawled back in to bed and let this all just pass me by? All I wanted was to talk to someone about this thing with Vic. Talking was supposed to be a good thing, right? It had worked between Branch and I, after Barlow tried to kill him. It hadn't been easy, but it had been therapeutic.

Trying to talk to Vic…well, there was more shouting than talking, but maybe tomorrow we could work it out. Maybe once we were back to work, on neutral ground, we could work this out…

Yup, I was going to get up, leave. I was done with this. I pushed my chair back, reached for my hat.

"You remember askin' me about Gary? You told me your dad said something about him when he was dyin'…"

"You said you didn't know what he meant," I replied without much interest as I got to my feet.

"I lied, Walt."

I looked down at Lucian. His was looking up at me and he was nervous! I watched his mouth open. An insane urge to tell him to shut up came over me. Something was coming…and when it came, that something threatened to drop me right back in to my chair.

"Gary was your brother…"

I swear that statement echoed through the room.

"Old man, I think you just had yourself a stroke."

It seemed the most likely explanation, even if I was grabbing for it out in left field. Lucian looked so upset that I almost called for a nurse.

"This ain't no stroke,Walt. It's just a fact. Sayin' it feels like what I imagine a stroke would be like, but this is true and the stroke's just for another day."

"Something's messing with your brain, Lucian. I don't have and never did have a brother. You know that."

I took the cigar from between his fingers and crushed it out in the ashtray. He didn't even protest.

"Just because you never knew him doesn't mean he never existed…and anyway, he was your half-brother. Quit lookin' at me like I've lost my mind, Walt! Just sit back down and hear me out."

No, this couldn't be true! Lucian just admitted lying to me the first time around about 'Gary', so he could just as easily be lying this time…

…except I knew he wasn't. I only had to look in his eyes to see what bringing up this subject was doing to him. Hat set aside, coat taken off, I sat back down on the edge of my seat and waited.

"So…your daddy…he was married before he met your ma. Married young, shot-gun style and before you could turn around twice, he had himself a son. He was so proud of that little boy! Parading him around town, boring us all to tears with the details of babyhood and such, but it was hard not to envy him a bit. He was so happy about it all."

"I'm not buyin' this…"

I hadn't meant to say it out loud, but there it was.

"It's true, Walt. I know you can't picture your dad that way, but that's how he was."

I felt a twinge. Anger? Jealousy? Six of one, half a dozen of the other.

"So my dad was a happy guy til I came along. So glad I stayed to hear that."

"Just keep listening and maybe you'll understand. Gary, now, he was a handful. In to everything, always so curious, so fearless! A lot like you when you were young, Walt. Must be a Longmire trait."

He smiled. I didn't. I sat back in my chair and absently ran my fingers over my jaw, the rasping of my whiskers letting me know I wasn't dreaming this.

"He grew up and he grew bolder. He was a good kid. Gregarious, funny and willing to try just about anything once, just to say he'd done it. He had a wild streak in him that your daddy admired and like I said, a fearlessness to him that more times than not landed him in the hospital, mostly for stitches and such. Sound like anyone you know?"

"My acquaintance with' stitches and such' started when I went to work for you, Lucian. Any 'wild' side I might've had was most definitely not encouraged by my father."

"Not encouraged and I can't say I blame him, but that doesn't mean you didn't have that same streak in you, Walt. You needed fixin', you went off to the Medicine Man with that Hanky CountyFair pal of yours…"

How the hell did Lucian know that? Did I really have to ask? I was the Sheriff now and I knew a lot more about the good citizens of this town than they were aware of. Being friends with my dad had given him a bit of an advantage, too, but I could've sworn my dad hadn't known or given much of a damn about what I did when I was with Henry, as long as it didn't involve drinking. Huh…

"So, this Gary, dad's golden boy…Where is he now? Me and you, we could hop in the Bullet and go pay him a call."

"Walt – "

"No, seriously, Lucian, tell me where he is."

"He's out at the homestead, Walt…"

"There's nobody out there, not now, anyway. It needs some fixing up before I can rent it out again…or sell it."

"He's there, Walt. Trust me."

"Then let's get going so I can meet my brother!"

"He's…he's dead, Walt. A long time now…"

"So, you're saying there's a body buried out on my parents' place?"

"Not a body, per se….Ashes."

"Where?"

"Y'know that crab-apple tree, out back on the hill?"

"Yeah…"

"Your dad buried his ashes there then planted that tree…"

"It's illegal to- "

"He wanted him close, Walt. No one knows, 'cept me."

"When?"

"Gary was twelve when he died. He'd be at least fourteen years older than you, so it's been a long time now."

"What happened?"

"He heard about the Lost Cabin Mine. Got all intrigued with findin' it. Hounded your dad about the two of them goin' to take a look-see. Your dad told him it was too dangerous to go wandering around in the mountains and the chances of them findin' anything were remote at best, but like you, when Gary got somethin' in his head, lettin' go of it was impossible."

Lucian took another shot of whiskey. I did likewise. Maybe I should've said something, but I didn't.

"It was over the weekend…t'wards Springtime, if I recall correctly. Your daddy was out of town. His wife was busy with the garden. Gary, he up and saddled himself a horse, told his mom he was going to a friend's for the day."

"What was her name?"

"Who? His friend?"

"No. My dad's wife. What was her name?"

"Mary-Anne. Not from around these parts. He'd met her somewhere else. The exact place escapes me now."

"Hhhmmm…"

"As I was sayin', Gary took off. Went in search of the Lost Cabin Mine or so it appeared when they found him."

"Dead?"

"Yup…Up in the Big Horns."

"What happened?"

"It appeared that he must've fallen from his horse. Maybe something spooked it. Who knows? Anyway, he fell, broke his neck. Took a couple of days for word to reach your dad that he was missin' and a couple more before he found him…It wasn't a pretty sight."

I could imagine it. I'd done my share of rescues up in the Big Horns and spent my own time lost in the mountains. I'd seen a body or two after predators had been at it…

"No! This is all bullshit!" I couldn't help saying."How come I've never heard of this mysterious half-brother of mine? My dad's family's been here for generations, almost as long as your family. Most families around here are at least third-generation! People would've known! There'd be talk! I wouldn't be finding this out now, not after all these years!"

"It's because families go back a ways here that there wasn't talk, Walt. Secrets are best held by those who kept them in the first place. You know that just as well as anyone," and I knew he was talking about Martha…and I had to admit there was truth in what he said.

"There's also 'respect'. Your daddy was never the same after Gary died. He holed himself up in that homestead. Mary-Ann left him. Can't say as I blame her. Just too much grief between them… It was the Bennets that sent your ma, their daughter, out there to tend to him. She cooked for him, cleaned for him; basically kept him alive. When he finally did show up in town, he let it be known that if he ever heard one word about Gary, there'd be trouble…and at the time, Walt, your daddy was crazy enough to mean it in the worst possible way. It came as no surprise when he married your ma. It seemed to settle him a bit, but he never really was the happy man he used to be. Then you came along…"

"It wasn't my fault."

The words just fell out. Just like the bottom was falling out of my world all over again. Secrets and sins.

"I know your dad was hard on you, Walt. Made you tow the line, kept you in check, tried to squash anything he took for foolish childhood fantasy. Your ma, rest her soul, she found other ways for you to indulge in that wild spirit of yours. She taught you to travel to other places through books. She showed you other worlds through music. You know she loved you…"

"She did."

"But your daddy loved you, too, Walt! He just wanted to keep you safe. He saw that same side of you that Gary had in 'im – and his biggest fear was losing you before you lost him…He wouldn't have made it through that again, Walt. Do you understand?"

I couldn't speak without swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Don't romanticise this, Lucian."

"And don't you act like none of this bothers you!"

Bothered me? Bothered me! Oh, hell, it did!

Anger. Bitterness. A strange sense of betrayal. They all came together like a tsunami in the sea of emotions I was feeling. A sea that threatened to carry me away and drown me. Betrayal seemed the dominant feeling. I couldn't believe that not one person in my family, not one person in this town, felt the need to let me know these things!

Couldn't believe Lucian had sat on this 'truth' all these years – and because I knew this wasn't what he meant for me to feel by finally telling me this, I kept my thoughts to myself. Grabbed hold of my emotions, those waves on the sea, and wrestled them in to a manageable calmness. I wasn't going to drown.

Maybe Lucian had expected me to break down. To shed a tear or two and tell him I forgave him for keeping this from me, that I forgave my father all his sins, real or imagined.

Maybe he wanted me to smile and say it all made sense now, all the years of never knowing why, just disappearing as I came to the realization that my father really had loved me.

– and maybe these were the responses he was looking for – but I couldn't give them to him. In my own defense, there was a good chance I was just too numb to show anything.

As Vic had said, 'happy fuckin' New Year…


End file.
